The Almanac Chronicles
by Michael2
Summary: Biff Tannen receives a strange book from a mysterious old man. What does he do with it?
1. Santa Anita Park

**1958**

A bell rings, and a dozen horses race out of the starting line on the dirt racetrack in Santa Anita Park in Arcadia, California. As the horses run around the dirt, the spectators in the grandstands cheer, even while listening to the announcer who is talking as fast as the horses are running. The dirt flies from the racetracks as the horses' hooves make hard contact with the turf. The crowd is wilder than usual, for the stakes in the race is stratospheric, more stratospheric than the San Gabriel Mountains in the distance.

Not even two minutes after the starting bell, the race is over as the horses cross the finish line within fifteen seconds of each other. Many of the spectators walk away with their heads down, knowing that they lost. A few hundred has won their bets, and they all line up to receive their prizes.

Even as vehicles drive around the racetrack to clean up after the horses, a man wearing a suit and carrying a huge facsimile cardboard check walks inside the interior of the grandstand, pushing through crowds. He can easily see where he is going, as his destination is marked by a crowd of people from security guards to photographers.

He sees a man in his early twenties, evidently the centerpiece of the crowd. Photographers are snapping pictures with their huge cameras.

"Smile," says the man, a racetrack official.

The photographers snap more pictures of the two men and the one million dollar facsimile check; the real check would arrive by certified mail.

The lucky winner then walks away. Today is his twenty-first birthday. While most people where he is from would go to a local bar, or a trip to the casinos next to Lake Tahoe, he flew from Sacramento to Los Angeles yesterday, and came to Santa Anita Park for this particular race.

"How is my lucky winner?" asks a pretty blond-haired lady.

"I'm always lucky with you, Meg," he replies. He puts his arms around her waist and kisses her, his heart racing even more. He does indeed feel lucky.

While he is mostly aflame with passion with this woman that he loves, Biff Tannen pats a book in his back pocket that was responsible for making the other great part of his twenty-first birthday.


	2. Luckiest Man on Earth

The Hill Valley Telegraph has been published for over ninety years now, ever since the founding of Hill Valley, California back in 1864. Most of the stories covered by the Telegraph are local, aside from a handful of stories in Sacramento about the California state government. The newspaper is published in a building just down the street from Hill Valley's courthouse square, the peaks of the Sierra Nevadas rising behind it.

Inside a huge office, Randolph Jensen, the publisher of the Telegraph, speaks on the phone.

"I'm sorry, but I already hired someone else," says the publisher. "Them's the breaks, kid."

"Uh, sure, Mr. Jensen," replies the voice on the other side. "Thank you for the interview."

The door opens, and a young man with red hair enters the office. "Boss," he says. "I got some news from the wire."

"What is it, Powell?" asks Jensen, holding a sheet of paper. "I'm pretty busy. Congress pass any new bills? The Reds causing more trouble?"

"Well, sir," says Lenny Powell, "It was on the sports wire. Someone won a million dollars at this racetrack near L.A.."

"Let me look at it," replies Jensen, taking a sheet of paper printed from a Teletype Model 20. "Just someone becoming a millionaire."

"He's someone local," replies Powell. "Biff Tannen. He was in my graduating class."

"Class of '56?"

"Yeah."

"Was he a sports star?"

"Uh, no, sir."

Randolph Jensen stands up and walks towards Lenny Powell. "Powell, I will have you cover this story."

"A story?" asks Powell, his breathing speeding up upon hearing those words. "I'm actually covering a story?"

"You are going to interview Mr. Tannen," says Jensen.

"That's great, sir. You won't regret this."

Lenny Powell walks into the Telegraph's main office, reporters typing up stories on their Smith-Corona typewriters, a huge grin on his face. He had just gotten this internship three days ago, and he was already assigned to write a story! It is so exciting especially since Mr. Jensen had told him that his internship was mostly reading reports coming from the wire and doing research in the library to check facts.

Oooooooooo

"A millionaire," says a young man wearing 3D glasses. "A millionaire."

"Well, not really," replies a young man with a shaved head. "After taxes he probably has what- seven hundred thousand?"

"There'll be more where that came from," says Biff Tannen, sitting inside the seedy bar and having a Miller High Life beer.

"More?" asks a young man with slick black hair, puffing on a cigarette. "You were lucky that you won the first time. It won't happen again."

"You'd be surprised."

Biff had known these three men since elementary school. Match, Skinhead, and 3-D, as he knew them, they had stuck together for over twelve years. This night, they celebrate inside this seedy bar where the bartender does not check for ID.

"You Biff Tannen?" asks a voice.

Biff looks and sees a red-haired man wearing a white shirt and black pants. The man appears to be about the same age as Biff's friends.

"What do you want?" he asks.

"Lenny Powell, Hill Valley Telegraph," he says. "I heard you won a million dollars at the racetrack."

"Of course," replies Biff.

Lenny Powell looks at the young man whom he is about to interview. Biff is tall, with light brown hair and a solid build. Lenny had once been afraid of him, but not anymore. Come to think of it, no one has been afraid of Biff for the past three years.

"Let's start from the beginning," says Lenny, holding a small notepad.

"I wanted to celebrate my twenty-first birthday with my girlfriend, Meg," says Biff. "I flew down to L.A. We were gonna go to that Disneyland place in the evening. We decided to go on a trip to this racetrack. I picked a couple of horses, and I won."

"And how did you feel?"

"I can't begin to tell you. It was like I was over the sun!"

"You were really lucky. What are you going to do now that you're a millionaire?"

"Pay my taxes," says Biff, chuckling. "Then I'm gonna travel the world with Meg. I haven't done lots of traveling."

"Would you be moving? Like Lake Tahoe, or San Francisco or L.A.?"

"I might have homes away from home. But my home is here, in Hill Valley."

Oooooooooo

Biff returns to the house where he had lived all his life. He is not going to live here much longer, as he has a house in mind that he could pay for in full, rather than taking out a loan.

Only a small lamp lights up the room. He turns the combination on a safe that he had for the past three years. He then takes out a book, Gray's Sports Almanac.

The book itself looks unremarkable, with images of sports on the front cover. The interior is listed with all sorts of sports statistics like baseball, basketball, and horse racing.

There is one thing that makes this book stand out from any other book Biff had read. The book's copyright date is 2001.

Memories surface in his mind. On November 12, 1955, an old man had approached him when he picked up his '46 Ford at Western Auto Stores. The man started the car- a car customized so that only Biff knew how to start it- and drove to his house. He gave the book to the then seventeen-year-old, telling him to bet on the winner and he will never lose. A sports report on a local radio station had confirmed that the old man was telling the truth.

Biff had asked some older friends to place a few bets for him in the past three years. He had chosen to go to the L.A. area for his twenty-first birthday, specifically to wager most of his life savings on a race taking place in Santa Anita Park that day.

And now he has done it.

And he will come back for more.

Oooooooooo

**1959**

**Biff Wins Again**

"How does he do it?" asks Randolph Jensen. "Winning _another_ million dollars? Something's not right here."

Lenny Powell nods. For someone to win over a million dollars in horse races twice. Lenny had written the front page story for the edition of the Hill Valley Telegraph now printing on the presses; he had been unable to reach Biff, who did not answer the phone in the home he had purchased in January. "He is lucky, sir."

"What do you know about him?"

"He was raised by his grandmother, he graduated from Hill Valley High in 1956, and he worked at a machine shop before he started winning big."

"Personal life?"

"I remember him mentioning a girlfriend."

Ooooooooooo

In another room in another building in another city, a man reads about Biff's good fortune.

_I better keep an eye on this Tannen fellow._

Ooooooooo

"Yesssss!" yells Biff, looking at the color television screen in the hotel bar- one of the many perks of this luxury report hotel in Key West, Florida. "Another million!"

"How do you keep doing it?" asks Skinhead, seeing the score displayed on the mounted television.

"Maybe he's just kidding," says 3-D.

"He wasn't kidding the last time," says Match.

The three of them sit inside the lounge. They had arrived in Key West, after flying from Sacramento to Dallas. The first thing that they had noticed was the humid heat of Key West. It rarely got this hot in Hill Valley. They had been sweating beads less than a minute after stepping off the plane.

3-D yawns, and feels himself starting to doze off. "I'd better head back to my room," he says. "You should get some sleep, Biff; you've got a big day tomorrow."

Ooooooooo

**June, 1959**

Biff stands tall, clad in a white tuxedo shirt and white tuxedo pants, as the sun is near the horizon of the Gulf of Mexico. A small breeze provides some relief from the heat. This is definitely the happiest day of his life, even more so than that fateful day at the racetrack.

"Do you, Megan Eileen Garber take Biff Tannen to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer and for poorer?" asks a man in a black outfit.

"I do," replies Meg, clad in a white wedding dress that she had gotten three months ago at a bridal shop in Hill Valley's Courthouse Square.

"And do you, Biff Tannen, take Megan Eileen Garber as your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer and for poorer?"

"I do," says Biff. _And it will definitely be for richer._

"By the powers vested in me by the state of Florida, I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Biff leans forward and kisses his new wife, a moment that he had been waiting for these past few years. He then looks at all of his friends and relatives and her friends and her relatives as they congratulate the newlyweds.

"Congratulations, Biff," says a man in his early fifties. "And to the new Mrs. Tannen."

"Thanks, Dad," replies Biff. His father had just gotten out of Leavenworth last year.

"I want to congratulate you," says Lenny Powell. "And thanks for letting me have the exclusive."

"You're welcome," replies Meg. "Biff and I, tomorrow morning we leave on a Caribbean cruise. Three weeks of island hopping."

Lenny glances at the glowing bride. "Interesting. I guess where you're going, you don't need roads. Biff, I must day that you are the luckiest man on Earth."


	3. Carmine Ciccone

**September, 1959**

The black Lincoln limousine sits outside the Tannen home, its engine idling. The front doors to the huge brownstone are opened, and Biff Tannen steps out with two bags of luggage.

"I'll be back in a week," says Biff.

"You sure I can't come?" asks Meg.

"Meg, baby, I'm going to New York with the guys. New York is a guy place, lots of concrete. For you we go to Hawaii or Tahiti or the Bahamas."

Ever since he married Meg, it was like a long vacation. They had traveled the world, visiting exotic places like London and Paris and Hong Kong. They had also visited places much closer to home, like the Grand Canyon and the beaches of Miami and the ski resorts in Aspen. They had plenty of free time, as Biff's work is betting on sporting events. Now Biff is going on a trip with his friends. He had not spent much time away from her since their wedding back in June.

"I think I can handle a week without you," says Meg. "I could always catch up with my girlfriends. I heard one of them's getting married next year."

"I'll make sure to call," says her husband, stepping into the limousine.

Meg watches as the limousine pulls away from the curb, taking her husband and going to pick up his three friends before going to the airport in Sacramento.

Biff takes a crumpled piece of paper from his shirt pocket. On it he had written sports scores. He had copied it from Gray's Sports Almanac. So far he has not told Meg about the book. The safe holding the book is tucked away in the basement. He encouraged Meg to participate in social clubs, which gave him time to open the safe and copy the sports scores from the almanac.

_Might as well place a few bets. _

Oooooooo

**January, 1960**

Lou's Café is located at the corner of Hill and Main Streets at the Courthouse Square in Hill Valley. The huge windows allow a view of the park in the center of Hill Valley. A courthouse shadows over the park; the clock frozen at 10:04 for over four years. Snow reflects the light from the street lamps.

Inside the café, the song "Venus" by Frankie Avalon plays on the jukebox. Lenny Powell sits at the counter, writing some notes, a dish with country fried chicken and French fries sitting before him. Powell had been in this café many times since he was a little boy. A former classmate of his works here, though not on this particular evening

He is no longer an intern; he is a full-fledged reporter for the Hill Valley Telegraph. He reports on social events, and occasionally a crime. His work did take him out of Hill Valley occasionally, such as when he drove two hours to Sacramento to report on a bill of local interest.

_Biff Tannen._

Ever since he heard about Biff winning big a second time, he wonders how he does it. Not that he is complaining- Biff appears at local charity functions when he is not out partying around the world with his friends or his wife Meg.

But for anyone to know who the winner of sporting events will be, it seems so unnatural. It is like predicting which side a coin would land on before it is flipped.

_I might as well try to figure out how Emmett Brown's mind works. _

Ooooooooooo

**March, 1960**

"Well, Copernicus, let's think this through," says Dr. Emmett Brown, sitting in the living room of his mansion at 1640 Riverside Drive, a warm fire in the fireplace. He looks at clippings of newspaper articles that he had collected. "How did Biff Tannen know whom to bet on?"

The yellow dog just stares at him. The only noise is from a rainstorm falling on Hill Valley, though without thunder and lightning.

One answer occurs to him. Memories of a series of strange events four and a half years ago rise to the surface.

It had started on November 5, 1955 when a seventeen-year-old boy named Marty McFly showed up on his doorstep, claiming to be from the future in a time machine that Brown would invent. He scoffed at the story at first, until the teen had told him about the flux capacitor.

Doc Brown had examined the time machine, which had been built into a silver car called a _DeLorean. _ Marty had interfered with his parents' first meeting, and he and Doc had a hell of a time getting them together. After that was done, Marty had driven the time machine into a wire that conducted a lightning bolt that struck the clock tower at 10:04 PM on November 12.

Doc had wondered what changes Marty McFly had made in history, how the future that he would return to would change from what the teen remembered. And now he has an idea. Marty had mentioned Biff during his talk of his life in the future, but he never mentioned that Biff was a millionaire or billionaire. Doc briefly considered that Biff got rich and then lost his fortune sometime before 1985, but the improbability on winning big repeatedly on sporting events forced him to consider a different hypothesis.

"It is improbable that Biff just happened to bet on the winner every time," he says to the dog. "The only explanation is that Marty must have left something from the future behind, and Biff got his hands on it somehow." The scientist recalls that his older self had packed the car with luggage. "The only thing that could give Biff the results of sports scores is a list or a book. But why did Marty have it on his person? Why didn't it stay in the car?"

Copernicus is just as qualified as any man on Earth to answer Brown's questions.

Oooooooo

**May 6, 1960**

The Race and Sports Book is Biff's favorite part of the casino. Wall-mounted color televisions show a wide variety of sports, from horse racing to wrestling to baseball and basketball. Twenty other people are in the room with Biff, watching the games. Some of them have studied sports extensively, keeping track of all the athletes, hoping that they have the edge to come out ahead.

None of them have the edge that Biff Tannen has.

One of the games ends, and Biff lines up to collect his winning. Match, Skinhead, and 3D are with him. They had all bet on the same games that he did, and they are all smiling.

"You did it again, Biff," says 3D.

"Let's go celebrate," says Skinhead.

Biff signs a voucher; he usually has his winnings mailed to a post office box in Hill Valley. He already carries plenty of cash.

He and his friends head out of the race and sports book. Thousands of people are inside the Lake Tahoe casino, pulling the levers of slot machines or betting at one of the many table games like poker or blackjack. Biff sometimes plays the slot machines and table games for fun. After all, he certainly has money to spare.

Hours later, they are all inside the hotel suite that Biff had rented out for the weekend. It is a huge suite, with a living room area equipped with sofas and a Magnavox color television. The bedroom in the back is next to a balcony overlooking Lake Tahoe.

"Biff is getting his private time," says Skinhead.

"She was a beauty," replies 3-D, watching a late night show on the TV.

A knocking sound is heard.

"Must be room service," says Match, walking towards the double doors.

Inside the room, Biff cuddles up against the girl.

"You think she won't mind?" she asks, lying underneath him.

"It's not like I'm gonna leave her," says Biff. "I just need some variety, you know." He hears the door open. "Hey, this isn't no peep show!"

He looks and sees a man that he had never seen before. The man is wearing a suit and hat and appears to be in his late twenties or early thirties. The man is accompanied by two men who clearly tower over Biff.

"Biff Tannen," says the unexpected visitor. "Name's Carmine Ciccone. I'm a businessman."

"What kind of business?" asks Biff.

"All kinds of business; I have a diverse portfolio."

"What do you want?"

"You've been lucky, Tannen. Very lucky. How do you do it? Betting on the winner every time? Winning hundreds of thousands to millions of dollars per game? How do you do it?"

"I'm just the luckiest man on Earth."

"Well, Tannen, how about sharing some of your luck with me, say fifty percent?"

"What's in it for me?"

His question is answered when one of Ciccone's escorts picks up Biff and takes him outside the balcony. Biff goes over the edge and finds himself staring straight down into the ground. Pressure on his ankles indicates how what keeps him from falling onto the ground below.

Biff Tannen is hanging upside down naked over the balcony.

"You pay me two million dollars now, and half of all your future winnings, and we pull you back up," says Ciccone. "Luigi here has this condition. His palms are always sweaty, so he can't hold on to anything for long."

"My hands are sweating really badly," says Luigi.

Biff's suite is on the twenty-seventh floor of the hotel. He can feel wetness on his ankles, not to mention a trail of wetness going down – or up- his chest.

"Okay, okay!" he yells. "I'll do it. It's a deal."

Luigi pulls Biff up, and the other thug helps Biff get back on the balcony. "You made a good deal, Tannen," says Ciccone.

Biff walks into the bedroom; the girl had left. He places on a fine silk bathrobe. Carmine Ciccone extends his hand. "Pleasure doin' business with you, Tannen. Maybe we can do more business again."

Ciccone and his people leave. Biff sits down on the bed.

Never before had he felt so small, so helpless.


	4. Seeds of an Empire

**November, 1960**

Reno is located in the high desert in northwestern Nevada. It had been the gambling capital of the United States before the flurry of construction on the Las Vegas Strip. The city is home to the University of Nevada, Reno, the oldest university in the state of Nevada, and the Nevada School of Law, the first law school in the state. Aside from gaming, Reno is also a major stopover for travelers on the railroads or U.S. Highway 40.

The city is also home to a tall glass and steel office tower rising high above the traffic of U.S. 40. Inside a private office in one of the upper floors, Carmine Ciccone sits behind a wooden desk that had just been moved.

He had purchased this building just a few days ago, and had been moving furniture and equipment and supplies here. The main office is still decorated with cardboard boxes; movers are moving desks and chairs inside.

Ciccone skims a newspaper article about President-elect John F. Kennedy making preparations for the transition to his administration. He then puts the paper down and looks out the window, seeing the skyline of downtown Reno with its casinos.

Ever since making that deal with Biff Tannen, he had experienced his own share of good fortune. He had purchased investment securities and this office building is his first investment property as well as his new headquarters. His fortune impresses the other Ciccones. And to do all this at the age of twenty-eight. Carmine Ciccone holds another newspaper – the Hill Valley Telegraph- and wonders what Biff Tannen is doing.

_He's probably pissing his money away as fast as he can spend it. At least I am putting _my _share to work. _

Oooooooooo

**January, 1961**

The suite of the upper floors of the Biltmore hotel in downtown Los Angeles has three rooms- a living room with sofas and televisions and a liquor cabinet, a bedroom in the back, and a luxury bathroom. The Biltmore first opened in 1923, and it had hosted events such as the Academy Awards- and a charity ball that had just ended this cold winter evening.

The doors open, and the young northern California couple that had booked this particular suite step inside into the heated air- warmer than the air outside, and _much _warmer than the air in Hill Valley, where a storm had just dumped seven inches of snow. He is dressed in a black tuxedo, while she wears an expensive designer dress from the finest fashion designers in New York City.

"Life can't be all beaches and cruises," says Biff Tannen. "Sometimes you have to dress up and go out to dinner and nobhob with the rich."

"They don't seem to be my kind of people," replies Meg Tannen. Her husband had made sure to meet all the businessmen and celebrities who had attended this ball. Some of the guests had come from as far away as Europe or Asia. "And the food. It was good, Biff, but it's only as good as the food at Lou's."

"I'll think about it the next time I want to have a one dollar country fried steak and I'm in Hill Valley."

"With the money you win from gambling, you could _buy_ Lou's. Or open a restaurant." Meg stops, letting her dress fall onto the soft-carpeted floor. "Biff, with the money you make, you could start your own business."

"Since when did you give financial advice?" asks Biff, removing his black tuxedo coat.

"I don't ask how you know the winners of all those sports," answers his wife.

"You have a point, my dear." For over a year, he had to fork over half of his winnings to that punk, Carmine Ciccone. Ciccone is a much greater pain in the ass than that punk kid whom he met back during his senior year in high school. "But I don't know how to run a business- except maybe to the floor."

"To the ground, Biff," corrects Meg. "You could always take extension classes at the Hill Valley Community College. They must have classes on business management."

Biff vaguely recalls the community college catalogs that are mailed to their home. "I'll think about it later," he says as he pulls down his tuxedo pants. "There is one thing that demands more immediate attention."

Oooooooooo

**February 7, 1961**

Biff looks at the pile of government forms on his wooden desk in his private study at his home in Hill Valley. Trying to start a business is almost as much a pain in the ass as forking over half of his winnings to that Ciccone punk. He had purchased some books from the newly opened bookstore across the street from the Hill Valley Courthouse; he is now studying all the state and federal tax laws as well as books on business management.

_This is like being back in high school._

In high school, he related to people by intimidating them, until that Saturday night which is famous in Hill Valley for the lightning bolt that struck the clock tower, freezing its hands at 10:04. He can relate to the experience, since he was struck in a manner like that of lightning.

Just as the lightning bolt had changed the clock, that strike changed his image with his fellow students. No longer were they afraid of him. Instead of cowering in fear or whimpering for mercy, they turned their backs or they laughed at him. He and the clock had been both rendered impotent.

But while the clock is stuck at 10:04, Biff did not stop changing. Among other things, he had learned that kissing ass upward could be effective as kicking ass downward. It is a lesson that took him years to learn, but learn he did.

And now he is a celebrity in Hill Valley and other places, known for his good fortune. He traveled the world, met models and actresses and politicians.

_So why doesn't that help me puzzle this out? _

Then there is the issue of hiring executives. His company is certainly not going to be a one-man operation. But how can he find the right employees, when he can not even figure out what kind of business that he wants to start?

Meg had some suggestions, as did his friends Match, Skinhead, and 3D. These suggestions wage a struggle for control in his tired mind.

He walks inside his master bedroom. Meg is already fast asleep, the bedroom alarm clock reads 1:24.

He wonders if he should go on a cruise or to Hawaii or the Bahamas. Maybe a little sun, as well as some variety, could give him ideas.

_Problem is, if I go on a trip, I'll be spending the money I need to start the business. What was the word- capital? And betting on sports might cause Ciccone to demand a higher share. _

ooooooooo

**February 14, 1961**

"So what does BiffCo do?" asks Mark Foster, sitting on a chair in front of the desk.

"I have this vision, Mr. Foster," says Biff Tannen. "A vision of a greater Hill Valley. This town has potential."

"I see." Mark Foster was a recent graduate of the University of Nevada in Reno. A few days ago, he had been mailed a letter from a company called BiffCo informing him of a position as a personnel manager. He had a bachelor's degree in Business Management; his specialty is Human Resources. Mark is surprised that a recent college graduate would be offered a management position. "To be perfectly honest, Mr. Tannen, are you sure I'm qualified? I've no management experience."

"Of course you're qualified," says Biff. "I wouldn't have asked you for this interview if you weren't. You help me find people, look through their resumes."

"So how will your company make a greater Hill Valley?" asks Mark.

"Property development. We'll buy property, hire construction crews, and build apartments and offices. Property values are rising, and you don't need to study real estate to know that people want to move in."

"I see. When can I start, Mr. Tannen?"

"I have a few more interviews to do," replies Biff, patting a pile of papers on his desk.

Foster puts on his winter coat and leaves the offices of BiffCo. At present, the office is empty, and the only furniture is Biff's desk with a Smith-Corona typewriter on top.

After looking through resumes, Biff looks at the Sears catalog to look at pictures of office furniture.

Ooooooooo

**February 21, 1961**

Lenny Powell hears the doorbell of his front door ring in addition to the song "It's Now or Never" by Elvis Presley played on the Philco radio.

"I'll get it," says a female voice belonging to his wife Cassie, whom he was married to for seven months now. She opens the door. "Meg! Come on in."

Meg Tannen enters the Lyon Estates home of Leonard and Cassandra Powell. It is a modest home, like the other homes in this housing development. The home has one single level, and the dining room is not separated from the living room. The Powells only have one TV set.

"Such a nice house," she says, her first time being here.

"It's what we can afford," says Cassie. "And we can raise ourselves a family here. We got pork chops cookin' in the oven."

Soon, Cassie takes out the pork chops from the oven with her mittened hands. Two bottles, each with a different sauce, are on the table.

"This is good food. You cooked this?" asks Meg.

"Of course," replies Cassie.

"Biff and I hire a cook whenever we stay home."

"You must have some interesting stories to tell. You and Biff travel a lot. I mean, the farthest I've been is San Francisco."

"So where's your husband?" asks Lenny. He recalls that Cassie had invented both of the Tannens.

"Biff's home with the flu, unfortunately," says Meg. "He's been spending the past few weeks trying to start his new business, filing papers, looking fort employees. They say the hardest part about running a business is starting one. By the way, Lenny, would you be interested in a job?"

Lenny puts down a cut piece of the pork chop. "I'm already a reporter with theTelegraph."

"He'll pay better – much better."

"Are you trying to recruit for your husband's company?" asks Cassie, pouring barbecue sauce onto her ceramic plate.

"Just trying to help out a little."

Oooooooooo

"Hi, Biff," says Meg as she enters her bedroom in her home. "Feeling better?"

"A little bit," replies her husband. He had taken two Tylenol tablets just an hour ago. Even so, he is still feeling pretty lousy. He reads a magazine that Meg had gotten him, illuminated by a soft lamp light.

"You could go to the living room and listen to the radio," suggests Meg.

"No thanks. I'd rather have it quiet for now." Biff puts a hand, feeling the heat radiated by his fevered forehead.

"I'll go get an icepack from the freezer."

Biff continues reading the stories in the magazine. The descriptions written by some of the authors distract his mind from the flu coursing through him.

Ooooooo

**March 1, 1961**

Lou's café is nearly empty today. Only one customer is inside, a man in his seventies nursing a cup of coffee. The only noise is from the jukebox, the song "the Twist" by Chubby Checker playing on it. A man in his early twenties wipes the counter. Looking at a clock, he sees that the place is about to close.

"Hey McFly!" yells a voice.

George McFly looks up and sees Biff Tannen entering the café. "We'll be closing soon," he says.

"I'll just get a cup of coffee," says Biff, sitting down at the counter. His bout with the flu is a distant memory now that he is well enough to walk around outside.

"Nine cents please."

Biff opens up a tiny coin purse, taking out a nickel and four pennies. "Nine cents? I remember the goold old days when coffee was only a nickel here."

"I wonder what brings you here," says George, filling up a mug with coffee. "Shouldn't you be traveling around the world, going on cruises or sipping margaritas at the beach?"

"Are you jealous?"

"No. I'm happy. Happy to just live here."

"I've starting a property development business and I was wondering if you would be interested in a position in my company. I need someone as a publicist and marketing manager. I can pay well – very well."

"How well, Biff?" asks George.

"Thirty thousand dollars a year."

George's eyes open wide, his ears having heard the number. "That's a lot. Why me?"

"I read some of your work. One of your stories was published in this magazine I was reading. I was laid up with the flu, so there wasn't much to do. You are quite creative. I had no idea you could do something like that."

"Well, yes, but I don't know anything about marketing. There's more to it than writing stories."

"In addition to the salary, I can pay tuition for you taking marketing extension courses at the community college," says Biff. "And if you want to go to college part-time to get a bachelor's degree in Marketing I can pay for that too. After all, writing stories is what marketing mostly is."

"I'll have to think about it, Biff," says George.

"Go ahead, McFly. It is a big decision. But I won't keep this offer open forever. At thirty thousand a year, I won't find it hard to find someone else." Biff takes a pen and writes numbers on a napkin. "These are my home and office numbers. Call me if you decide to take my offer."

"I'll let you know by Friday."

Biff walks towards the door. He then turns around. "Where's your car? It wasn't parked outside."

"It was repossessed," says George.

A bell rings as Biff opens the door, leaving Lou's Café.

Oooooooooo

George McFly returns to his apartment after finishing his shift at Lou's Café. The apartment is small, with only a single couch and an old coffee table with stains on it. The part-time author and waiter walks to the kitchen. He is the only person there; his wife, Lorraine, is working her shift at a cocktail bar.

He reads the notices on the kitchen table. Almost all of them have **PAST DUE** and**FINAL NOTICE **written on them in red ink. One reads **THREE DAY NOTICE TO PAY RENT OR QUIT**.

He takes one of the bills with its screaming red letters. His mind replays memories of the words of his father, Arthur McFly.

_You worthless piece of shit! You'll never be anything. With those grades, the only work you'll get is digging shithouses in lumber camps! _

He had tried, these past few years, to prove those words of wisdom wrong. But with the recent repossession of his car, and his imminent eviction, those words might be right after all.

Unless….


	5. Developments

**March 25, 1961**

The door opens in Biff's office, and a young woman wearing a short skirt enters. She holds a manila envelope.

"Mr. Tannen," she says. "This envelope came in the mail."

Biff takes the envelope. A sticker on the envelope reveals that this mail was certified; the secretary's signature is on the envelope. Opening the envelope, he reads a letter from an escrow company that he had been dealing with.

Holding the letter, he leaves his private office and walks towards one of the other private offices in the office suite that currently serves as the headquarters for BiffCo.

"Leeds," says Biff. "We closed escrow for one of the homes we bought. I need to see the company books."

Clarence Leeds is in charge of BiffCo's books; he was a newly minted CPA when Biff Tannen hired him. He opens up a ledger. "We have about four hundred thousand in cash. It should be enough to hire contractors."

Biff takes a closer look at the ledger. "Okay, I'll look into hiring some construction crews."

He then leaves the accountant's office.

Ooooooooo

**April 9, 1961**

A Ford bobtail truck is parked on the driveway of an old two-story home in an old neighborhood in Hill Valley. Workers in jeans and T-shirts carry equipment from the truck and into the house. Loud noises come from the home as the workers tear down plaster walls.

A 1961 Studebaker Hawk pulls to the curb next to the house. George McFly steps out of the car that he had bought last month in full and enters the house.

"Careful," says one of the contractors. "You don't want to get dust on your coat."

"Thanks," replies George. He had been familiar with the remodeling of this house, considering that he would be responsible for marketing this home for BiffCo once it is ready for sale. While he is not a licensed real estate agent, one does not have to be a licensed agent to sell one's own real property.

"Don't step in here," says the contractor. "The tiles need to dry."

George looks at the kitchen. The floor of the kitchen and dining room is covered in glazed blue tile. Glazed blue tiles, smaller than the floor tiles, cover the counters. "I definitely like it. When will you be done?"

"Middle of next week, no later than Friday of next week," says the head contractor.

Ooooooo

Meanwhile, Biff is poring over report the company finances he had requested from Clarence Leeds.

BiffCo is in negotiations to purchase a large plot of land on the outskirts of Hill Valley, near the Lyon Estates housing development. Aside from meeting with city and county officials to have the property rezoned, Biff also has to figure out a way to finance the construction of the homes, which is no small feat.

Houses in Hill Valley are selling at around twenty-five thousand dollars. Leeds had calculated that selling the homes would more than make up for the construction costs as well as the purchase price of the land. The problem is financing the whole thing. BiffCo did not have enough cash on hand to do so, even if it sold all the homes it had purchased for remodeling and resale.

_I guess I'll have to place another bet,_ thinks Biff. _We'll have the money for the project, after paying Ciccone his share of the winnings. _

Biff's thoughts wander towards Carmine Ciccone, and that night in 1959 when he was held by his ankles over the balcony of a hotel near Lake Tahoe. The sheer terror of that memory still gives him a shudder. If only he can make Ciccone feel that terror.

But now is not the time to get back at Ciccone for that insult. Biff knows that Carmine Ciccone has plenty of influence and power.

If only he had that same power.

Right now, his biggest worry is that Ciccone might demand a share of BiffCo's profits just as he gets a share of Biff's gambling winnings.

Oooooooo

**July 28, 1961**

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Biff Tannen!"

Biff turns around, away from his scotch sitting on the bar, and sees Carmine Ciccone accompanied by two of his thugs. Ciccone had always made sure to make contact with him every once in a while.

The only sounds are the noises of the slot machines, the sound of coins hitting the tray every time the slot machine pays out, and the song "Save the Last Dance for Me" by the Drifters playing over the speakers.

"Hi there," says Biff.

"You don't seem too happy to see me, Tannen," says Ciccone.

"I've been busy."

"Heard about your new business. Say, what's with that nice suit? You dress upscale all the time now that you're rich."

"I'm here for a friend's wedding. I knew him since elementary school." His friend whom he knows as Skinhead had gotten married in an outdoor ceremony at the shore of Lake Tahoe, with a priest officiating and sacraments offered. The reception is in a ballroom inside this hotel/casino near the California state line. "I was just out here for a drink."

"I must congratulate the bride and groom. Maybe one of the bridesmaids might be interested?"

Biff finishes his scotch. "I should be heading back to the reception. My wife's there."

"We could do business together, Tannen. I know we got off to a bad start."

"You held be over the edge of the balcony."

"That was my handiwork," says Luigi, one of Ciccone's thugs.

"Anyway, you are a talented young man," says Ciccone. "Come talk to me if you need something and we can make a deal." Ciccone looks at his men. "Let's go, boys. Better hit the tables while they're still hot!"

ooooooooo

**September 7, 1961**

Lenny Powell starts the engine of his '59 Chevrolet and drives along the street to the main road. At the intersection, he can see the new houses that had just been built, all gleaming with their new paint jobs in the late summer sun. He continues his drive to the offices of the Hill Valley Telegraph in downtown Hill Valley.

His car parked, he steps inside the main office.

"Great article you wrote, Powell," says his boss, Randolph Jensen. "That story on the Women's Club- excellent."

"Thank you, sir," replies Powell, instinctively placing his fingers on the keys of the Smith Corona typewriter on his desk.

"You know of that new housing development that was just finished?"

"Yes, sir. I live just down the street from it."

Jensen places his hands on Lenny's desk. "What do you know about the housing development?"

"It's new, and the houses are being offered for thirty thousand dollars. BiffCo owns the houses and they financed the construction."

"And refresh my memory of the founder of BiffCo." Jensen already knows, but he has the habit of asking his reporters questions that he knows the answer to, in order to refresh _their _memories.

"Biff Tannen founded the company," says Powell. "I remember that he was in my high school graduating class and that he won really big betting on sports back around 1959."

Randolph Jensen lights up a Cuban cigar. "You know, Powell, these things have been hard to get ever since Castro took over Cuba. This Biff Tannen character, he's only five years out of high school."

"And he made it big." Lenny briefly recalls the newspaper headlines Jensen had published about Biff's lucky streak. For less than a second, he wishes that he had made such a fortune.

Oooooooooooo

Later that day, Lenny Powell stops his car on a dirt road in the middle of a forest about seven miles from Hill Valley. In the distance he can hear the noise of chainsaws biting into wood. A small clearing in the forest contains a log cabin with two trucks parked nearby.

Steeping out of his Chevrolet, Powell is familiar with this kind of environment. His father had worked the lumber camps back during the Depression. Lumber production had been a staple of the Hill Valley economy since its founding, even with new industries starting up.

The interior of a cabin has a small office. A calendar is pinned to the wooden wall. Posters of forests and woodlands decorate the office, some of them dating back to the 1920's. Three men are inside.

"Hello there," says Lenny. "Lenny Powell, Hill Valley Telegraph. I heard this place is under new management."

"We got a new person writin' the paychecks," says a man with a thick moustache that obscures his upper lip. "I still run the day-to-day operations."

"Mr. Weltman here does have the hands-on-experience," says a man in a suit who is clearly decades younger than the lumber camp foreman. "Stan Cartman, director of BiffCo's operations. This is Mark Foster, director of BiffCo personnel."

The two executives extend their hands. "So BiffCo bought the lumber camp."

"Cleared escrow yesterday," says Cartman. "The owner was happy to accept payment and retire."

"Any plans?" asks the reporter.

"We simply intend to run this business and make a profit. We're keeping the senior employees; they know how to run things here."

Powell writes notes on his notepad. "Thank you for your time, gentlemen."

Oooooooo

**October 26, 1962**

The crisis in Cuba concerning the installation of Soviet missiles is the biggest news in the world this day. Millions of people listen to the radio or watch television, wondering if a nuclear world war will start the next second.

The events in Cuba are on the back burner of Biff's mind as he meets with others in his private office. The current agenda concerns a sale of real estate. In the room is the seller of the real estate, his real estate agent, and an escrow agent.

Biff looks over the sales contract, which contains the terms of the contract, plus a description and map of the land that he will buy.

"Here's my John Adams," says Biff, signing the contract. "Mr. Leeds will cut the check."

"A pleasure doing business with you again, Mr. Tannen," says Silas Moore, the escrow agent. "We'll tell you when everything clears escrow."

"Let's just hope things don't go to complete shit in Cuba," says the real estate agent who represents the owner.

The owner of the land leaves the BiffCo offices less than a minute later. Dr. Emmett Brown briefly remembers the fire that burned down the home that he had lived in, and came close to claiming his life and the life of his dog Copernicus.

_Once I get the check from escrow, I can finance the research into the flux capacitor. _


	6. Entrepreneur

**December 25, 1962**

_Merry Christmas._

Dr. Emmett Brown wakes up to celebrate Christmas. He looks at his garage where he had lived these past four months, which is packed with all sorts of things and equipment. He alreafy had a bed inside before the fire, as he sometimes did late night experiments and did not feel like walking through the dark towards his mansion.

His mansion was no more ever since that fire. Not even the foundation remains now. He had seen the construction crews take apart the corpse of his former home.

"Merry Christmas, Copernicus," he says, looking at the dog that he had for nine years now. "It is just you and me, my friend."

The dog licks his best friend's hand.

Emmett puts on a heavy coat and hat and boots and walks outside. He is immediately greeted by a large snowscape.

_There was only a light snow at 8PM yesterday. A huge storm must have dumped this early in the morning._

The sky above is overcast. No snow is falling, though Emmett knows very well that the clouds could dump another foot of snow at any time.

To his right is the property that now bears the address of 1640 Riverside Drive. It is currently vacant. Only a few snow-covered bulldozers and cranes sit at the site. A billboard next to the street has a picture of a tall office building and the words "Future Home of BiffCo". The only man there is a security guard clad in a heavy winter coat.

"Merry Christmas," Dr. Brown says to the guard.

"Uh, Merry Christmas to you too," replies the guard.

"How long are you here?"

"I got to stay here until noon. I was hoping to spend the evening with my family in Placerville, but with all this snow."

"Maybe you can spend it with me."

"We'll see," says the guard, a man in his early forties.

Ooooooooo

**February 17, 1963**

The brightness is the most conspicuous feature of the room. Anyone who would walk in here would be struck with the brightness.

Two people are in the room. One of them is a man in his early thirties with slick black hair. He stands behind a camera mounted on a tripod and snaps another picture.

"Now hold that cigar just near your mouth," he says. "Act like you enjoy it."

Biff Tannen holds the cigar near his mouth. He is dressed in a very fine-looking outfit, and sideburns now grow on his face. He had decided to grow sideburns as part of his public image. After all, BiffCo is an extension of him, and he is the centerpiece of BiffCo's marketing operations.

More and more pictures are taken. Biff holds the Cuban cigar. While they had been hard to get since Castro took over, trade between U.S. citizens and Cuba had been made illegal a few days ago, making the cigars that much more precious.

"Thirty poses, thirty pictures," says the photographer, who had taken pictures of Biff in his studio two blocks from the courthouse square.

Biff takes out his Bank of America checkbook to write a check for the photographer. "Here," he says.

"I could have the proofs mailed to you by tomorrow," says the photographer.

Ooooooo

**April 8, 1963**

Lenny Powell enters the offices of the Hill Valley Telegraph Monday morning. While most people in Hill Valley arrive at work after the weekend off, the Telegraph runs every day. Powell had been conducting interviews for follow-up stories. He takes a look at the current day's edition, which had the headline story of a forest fire about thirty miles away, and another front page story about Yugoslavia being proclaimed as a Socialist republic.

_Someday, people will be able to get print news seconds after the event. _

Randolph Jensen, the publisher of the Telegraph, walks up to the desk.

"Good morning, Mr. Jensen," says Lenny, looking up from his Smith-Corona typewriter.

"Good morning, Powell," replies Jensen. "What are you doing?"

"Writing follow-up stories on the fire. Today I'm going to interview city councilmen about the new development plan being proposed for the south side."

"I'll be in my office," replies Jensen.

Powell continues to type on his typewriter. He had mostly reported on stories in the Hill Valley area, though last month he took a trip to San Francisco to cover the closing of the infamous Alcatraz prison.

He tears out a page in frustration. Looking through his notes, he sees his notes on another story, about a bake sale held by the Hill Valley Women's Club.

In the corner of his eye, he sees a man enter the office. The visitor is dressed in a black business suit and his feet are clad in shiny black loafers.

"Is a Randolph Jensen here?" asks the man.

"I know you," says Lenny, his memories swirling in his head.

"George McFly," answers the visitor. "I direct marketing for BiffCo."

"Hello?" asks Jensen.

"George McFly, director of marketing for BiffCo," says George, extending his hand. "Are you Randolph Jensen?"

"Yes, I am," replies Jensen. "I am the publisher."

"BiffCo has just purchased the Hill Valley Telegraph."

"Is this some sort of joke, Mr. McFly?"

George opens a manila envelope and pulls out documents. "These are all the documents from escrow, as well as a copy of the check from BiffCo to the former owner. You can call him to verify. The fact is that BiffCo is now your employer."

Jensen knows the owner, who is a man in his late seventies. The owner had not told him about selling the paper. He then takes another look at the documents, which detail the sale of the paper, its trademarks, and the paper's lease of the office space.

"Okay, Mr. McFly," he says. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"You can clean up your office, Jensen," replies George. "We've decided to make a few changes here." Everyone in the office looks as they hear the details about the Telegraph's change of ownership. "We will have to let go of some of the personnel, hire new reporters and a new publisher. If you want details, you can call Mark Foster- he's in charge of BiffCo's personnel. Right now, _I'm_ in charge here."

"I was the publisher for over twenty years!"

"And we thank you for that, Mr. Jensen. You still have your pension fund. Enjoy your retirement."

The room is filled with silence for over a minute; uncertainty looming in the near future.

"Where is Biff Tannen?" asks Lenny, breaking the silence.

"Mr. Tannen is a very busy man."

Oooooooooo

The waves crash against the sands of the beach in the big island of Hawaii. Even though it is early spring, the air in Hawaii is warm enough that people could walk around in swimsuits, either on the beach or in the shallow salty waters nearby. Or they could just lie down on towels or beach chairs.

Biff Tannen sips on a pina colada. A beautiful, dark-haired woman stops by and smiles.

He smiles back.

Oooooooo

**November 22, 1963**

The large ballroom inside the Hilton hotel in downtown Sacramento has dozens of cloth-covered tables. Over a hundred people clad in business attire attend this awards dinner. Solidly built men in black suits maintain security over the ballroom.

A speech is given, and the guests all clap. Some of them sip the wine that they had ordered from the hotel's staff, others eat the entrée that is prime rib au jus with creamy horseradish on the side.

Biff Tannen widens his eyes as his name is called up. He stands up and walks to the podium. He looks towards the other guests and smiles as photographers take more pictures.

He receives an American Entrepreneur Award from President John F. Kennedy. He smiles at his wife, Meg, and then smiles at the photographers who take more pictures.

oooooooo

**March 27, 1964**

Meg Tannen steps out of the car and walks towards the terminal in Sacramento Airport. A few dozen people are inside the terminal, waiting for their flights or waiting to pick up arrivals. The terminal is not as busy as airport terminals in Los Angeles or Chicago.

A man wearing a sweater walks inside the building. Two sideburns grow on both sides of his face.

"Biff," says Meg, greeting her husband of five years.

"Great to see you again," says Biff. "I miss you."

"How was Chicago?"

"It was just business," says Biff as he and his wife walk out of the terminal building and towards their car to begin the two-hour drive back to Hill Valley. They enter the parking lot, which charges fifty cents an hour for parking. "You know, I met with businessmen, we talked deals."

"And you must have eaten in some fine restaurants too."

"Well, yeah." Biff glosses over at the other things he did during his three-day trip to Chicago, a large city on the shore of Lake Michigan. "It didn't seem like work to me at all. Running BiffCo, growing BiffCo; I've learned a lot these past three years."

"I can tell," says Meg as she opens the driver's side door of the Chevrolet. "You didn't talk like that back when we met. I have other news."

"What news would that be?" asks Biff, fastening his seat belt.

"I'm pregnant."

It is as if lightning had struck him.

Oooooooo

**April 14, 1964**

Orville Fokker parks his Ford in the parking lot near the office building where BiffCo's headquarters are located and will be located until the new office building on Riverside Drive is finished. This is why he and his co-worker, James Cox, are here. They both are wearing business suits, not like the normal attire that they wear to work. They walk along the parking lot through the spring air and open the glass door leading to the office suites where the company is located.

"Hello there," says a young auburn-haired woman greeting the two men who are clearly older than her. "My name is Sherry; I'm the executive secretary for BiffCo. You must be the union people."

"I'm the president of the union," says Fokker. "I've worked in construction for over twenty years. Only took a break when I got hurt about eight years ago."

"Where are we all meeting?" asks Cox.

Sherry leads the two union men into the BiffCo conference room. Pictures on the wall show BiffCo's development projects, including the Riverside Drive office tower.

Four executives, dressed in business suits, all sit down.

"Orville Fokker," says the union president. "Where is Mr. Tannen?"

"Mr. Tannen is busy," says Mark Foster, the BiffCo's personnel manager. "He will be here shortly. Maybe you can tell us your grievances."

"We want better wages and working conditions," says Fokker. "One-hour lunch breaks, and a raise to eight dollars an hour. We are considering going on strike. The union votes tomorrow."

"You make pretty big demands, Mr. Fokker," says Foster. "Perhaps you can scale it down a bit. If we have a resolution before Biff gets here, he will be very happy, which will make the both of us happy."

"And yet you need that building erected," says James Cox. "If we go on strike, you will lose more money than if you give in to our demands."

The door opens, and Fokker and Cox turn their heads, expecting Biff Tannen to show up.

They only see Sherry, the secretary.

"I made coffee for you if you want it," she says. "And here's the mail. Do you know where I should put it."

"The side table there is fine," says Stan Cartman, the operations manager.

Sherry walks towards the table, and drops what she is carrying. Papers and photographs drop onto the carpeted floor.

Orville Fokker opens his jaw wide as he sees one of the photographs.

"Where did you get these?" he asks. The pictures are of him and a woman sitting on his lap as he sits on a barstool in a club, pictures that could do much damange to his reputation and his marriage if it ever fell into the wrong hands. "This is blackmail."

"I had nothing to do with it," says Mark Foster.

"The hell you don't!"

"Let's not get into an argument here," says George McFly. "I am sure we can all work out a reasonable settlement."

"Right," says Fokker.

oooooooo

**June 11, 1964**

Once again, Lenny Powell is on assignment. He stands among the crowd in the warm late spring air,clad in a white shirt and pants. Dozens of people have gathered here for this new event.

The centerpiece of this event is a tall, glass-and-steel twelve story office building, which took about eighteen months to finish. Water and power to the building had been activated yesterday. Already, tenants had leased office space in the lower levels of the building.

A wooden podium is set in front of the front doors to the office building at 1640 Riverside Drive. Biff Tannen walks up to the podium and speaks into the microphone.

"Hello, citizens of Hill Valley," he says. "Today we open the new headquarters for BiffCo Enterprises. This new building will be the base of operations for the fastest growing business in all of California, and will also be home to over a dozen tenant businesses. And this is not the end, but just the beginning. Even now we are developing this neighborhood, to bring more jobs and more families to our city."

Biff then shakes the mayor's hand. Lenny scribbles some notes into his notepad. He looks around the site of the former Brown estate. Many businesses are already up, such as fast food joints and bars and stores. Other buildings are still undergoing construction. Lenny recalls that BiffCo purchased some more properties; the construction of the office building caused property values to skyrocket, and some of the people living in the old homes here decided to sell and move to places like Florida or Hawaii. Dr. Emmett Brown, who had sold the land where the BiffCo office tower now stands, lives in a garage next to a Burger King restaurant.

Ooooooooooo

Biff and the executives and staff of BiffCo- now numbering ten- enter the office suites on the twelfth floor of the new office building. The front doors are custom designed, with the BiffCo logo- the face of Biff Tannen with a cigar in his hand- engraved on the door at considerable expense.

oooooooo

"Still working hard?" asks Donald Wilson, the publisher of the Hill Valley Telegraph.

"Sure, Mr. Wilson," replies Lenny, typing the article about the opening of the BiffCo tower on his Smith-Corona typewriter. He glances at the man who had been his boss for over a year now. Donald Wilson is only two years older than Lenny is, and he is a Negro. Some of the staff writers had quit over a Negro being hired as a publisher. The idea seemed radical at the time.

_Then again, a Negro publisher would be entirely dependent on the favor of his employer. _

Lenny continues typing. He wonders what to get for his upcoming anniversary with his wife Cassie, as well as what to buy for his daughter's first birthday. He ponders the story that he is writing. The opening of a brand new office building may be big news in Hill Valley, but not in San Francisco, Los Angeles, or New York.

_Reporters there probably write more interesting stuff. _

He looks briefly at a summary of news articles from other sources that the Telegraph  will publish, such as the United States Senate ending a 75-day filibuster on the Civil Rights Act. Lenny then returns to his assignment.

Oooooooo

**October 31, 1964**

A breeze blows through Hill Valley in the late Halloween afternoon. As the sun is dipping into the horizon, children are out wearing all sorts of costumes and collecting various brands of candy.

One of the houses in Hill Valley had been decorated as a hunated house. Extensions had been built to include additional decoration.

"Happy Halloween, matey," says Biff Tannen, clad in a pirate outfit.

"Thank you," says a little boy as he receives candy from the businessman.

"Pretty impressive, Biff," says Meg, dressed as an angel- albeit a hugely pregnant one. White wings emerge from her shoulders. A white coat covers her top, and a long, thick white skirt reaches her knees.

"The company bought this house to remodel it. We rented it out to the foundation to operate this free haunted house."

The foundation, of course, is the Biff Tannen Foundation, a charitable foundation founded back in June of 1963. The Biff Tannen Foundation owns forty-five percent of BiffCo. Among other things, BiffCo can now truthfully advertise that a share of its profits go to charity.

A girl dressed as a she-devil leaves the haunted house. The look on her face is a mixture of fright and happiness.

"I like your costume, ma'am," says the girl. "Are you a fat fairy."

"I'm going to have a baby angel soon," says Meg.

ooooooooo

**November 7, 1964**

It has come down to this.

After nearly eight months of doctor appointments, eating extra food, and throwing up in the mornings, Megan Eileen Garber Tannen is inside a hospital room. The room is painted white, and doctors in gowns watch over her, but that is not what she notices.

The abdominal pain overwhelms her other senses. It is much worse than the bout of appendicitis that she had when she was thirteen.

She screams again and again. A rational thought briefly pops into her mind.

_Putting the baby in was much more fun than pushing the baby out. _

"I see the head," a doctor says. "Push, Mrs. Tannen, push!"

Meg continues pushing like she never pushed before. She cries and screams.

And then she hears a scream not her own.

"It's a boy," someone says.

Meg pushes one last time, and the placenta is expelled and placed into a plastic bag. Her husband Biff takes the baby to her.

And thus, Clifford Robert Tannen is born.


	7. Californians for a Better Future

May 18, 1965 

The conference room is sparsely decorated, with only a wooden table and a few chairs. The window looks out to a commercial street in Hill Valley. Five people are inside the room. Biff Tannen sits on one of the chairs, and his wife Meg sits on another chair on the opposite side, holding their six-month old son, Cliff.

"I can live with that," says Meg.

"We're glad you're reasonable about this, Mrs. Tannen," says the man in the suit who is sitting besides Biff. "It is unfortunate that this had to happen."

"It is better if we do not fight this out," says a man sitting next to Meg.

Biff Tannen walks out of the conference room into the main office.

At 2:00 PM, he and Meg are divorced.

Oooooooo

**August 26, 1965**

"So let me get this straight, Mr. Tannen," says the blue-shirted man sitting at the table. "You want to buy properties over there."

"That's right, Mr. O'Neill," replies Biff, meeting with O'Neill in the conference room.

"You know what happened there earlier this month. It would be dangerous to open businesses there."

"The cops were just caught off guard. There can be real growth potential, if someone were to buy up the properties and develop them. I was successful in Hill Valley."

"Hill Valley isn't in the center of the ghetto," says O'Neill.

Just over a week ago, riots were sparked in the Watts area of Los Angeles. Many businesses had burned down. On this day, one can go to the area and see the husks of burnt-down buildings. Biff and the BiffCo executives flew to Los Angeles to meet with city officials about the redevelopment plan.

"If you could give us the permits," says Stan Cartman, the operations vice president, "we can hire crews by next week. We have enough equity to start construction, according to Mr. Leeds here."

"And what else could you do?"

"I am also the chairman of the Biff Tannen Foundation," says Biff, "which owns a huge share of BiffCo. We could set up vocational training for jobs like machine tool operators or nurses. Maybe we can give people scholarships to attend medical school or law school."

Oooooooooo

"This is a big gamble you're taking, Biff," says Clarence Leeds, the comptroller. "I hope you have the same sources you had when you bet on the sporting events."

"It's a long term investment, Leeds," replies Biff, sipping a Miller High Life beer as he sits down at the wooden table. He and his executives decided to spend some time in a lounge in Hollywood. The place is dim, and the song "A Hard Day's Night" by the Beatles plays over the speaker. People from their early to late twenties dance on the wooden dance floor in the corner.

"It's too bad things didn't work out between you and Meg," says George McFly.

"Things happen, McFly," answers Biff.

"Your divorce was the headline article on the Hill Valley Telegraph."

"Tannen!"

Biff turns and sees Carmine Ciccone and his two thugs. "What are you doing here?" he asks, his hand slightly trembling.

"The family had business to take care of here in L.A., and I flew down here from Reno. Now that business is taken care of, I want to have fun. Sure there's no gambling here, but the clubs still rock."

"What airline did you use?"

"Airline?" asks Ciccone. "I prefer to use chartered flights. More expensive, but I like the privacy."

"Maybe I should get a corporate jet," says Biff.

"You've made a lot of business for yourself, Tannen. Maybe we can make a deal." Carmine looks at the dance floor. "Your people sure know how to have fun; some of them might be staying at the motel down the street and renting rooms by the hour."

"What about your people?" asks Biff.

"I'm workin' here," says Ciccone's thug, Luigi. "I got to escort the boss everwhere I go."

Oooooooo

**July 13, 1966**

"I'm not selling!"

"If you could please reconsider….Hello?"

There is no reply.

Stan Cartman hangs up the telephone. He briefly glances around his office. It is at least three times as big as the old office. It has the typical office stuff- a desk, chairs, file cabinets, a typewriter, and a telephone that he had just been on. He looks at a cloikc mounted on the wall. It is 10:25, and there is a scheduled meeting at 10:30 with Biff and the other executives.

At 10:30, Stan sits in the conference room with the others. The wooden doors open, and Biff Tannen steps in. Usually Biff is late for his own meetings.

"Let us begin with our development proposal," says Biff as soon as his ass touches the leather chair. "Cartman, if you can give us the latest news."

"He doesn't want to sell the site," says Cartman. He and the others have driven by the proposed site of their next development project.

"The Lone Pine Ranch is the best site for our new shopping center," says the BiffCo founder. "Other sites won't be as good."

"I have some rough ideas about other sites. I can talk to George about the marketing."

"I remember something about the owner of Lone Pine," says Clarence Leeds. "Otis Peabody. He was once locked up in the asylum."

"So?" asks Mark Foster.

"Let's hear it," says Biff.

"He said an alien crashed into his barn back in 1955 and then mowed down a pine tree. It used to be called the Twin Pines Ranch. After he was released, he changed the name to Lone Pine Ranch. It was big news back then."

"Not much else happens here," says George McFly.

"Maybe we can scare him," says Clarence. "If someone were to dress as an alien, break into his home, and scare the shit out of him, we might be able to get the ranch."

"And if we get caught, we would be a big trouble, Clarence," replies George. "No one on our payroll should be involved in something like that."

"You're right, McFly," says Biff. "You're right. If someone on our payroll were to do something like that, the police, the press, the public would turn against us. None of our employees are to do anything illegal in regards to this project."

Ooooooooooo

**July 16, 1966**

Otis Peabody wakes to a loud shrieking sound. The first thing he notices is a pattern of colored lights coming through the window into his dark bedroom.

"What is it?" asks his wife.

"I think they're back," replies Peabody.

He flips the switch on the wall; the room remains dark. He grabs his Remington shotgun- he remembers where he put it. Tying a flashlight to the shotgun, he walks down the stairs. His heart races, memories of that strange morning nearly eleven years ago surface to his mind.

Leaving his front door, he can see an orange light.

"My barn!" he yells. The barn that is about thirty feet from the house, where the strange vehicle had crashed that early Saturday morning, the barn is now consumed in a blaze.

Then a white light shines upon him, revealing him to be a man in his late fifties with a gray beard. The bright colors of his pajamas are now clearly visible. The white light is replaced by colored lights, and then he sees where the lights are coming from.

The lights come from this strange, silvery vehicle. A shrieking sound blares from the vehicle. Immediately, Peabody's bowels loosen, releasing their contents into the back of his pants.

"This farm will be our base of operations for the invasion!" yells a voice.

"No, it can't be," replies Peabody. "Oh God no!"

"If you want to live, sell your land and move to Alaska."

"Alaska?"

"Alaska is a neutral zone. We will not attack Alaska as long as they stay neutral."

Ooooooooo

Biff Tannen sits inside his Ford convertible; its top down. He can feel the warm night air. He rarely uses the Ford convertible, preferring his newer model Cadillac. In the rear view mirror, he can see lights approaching. A man in his late twenties walks out of the vehicle.

"How did it go?" asks Biff.

"We scared the shit out of him," says Match. "If you could have seen the look on the old man's face."

"Yeah," says 3-D. "Good thing you have those Hollywood connections."

"It was like old times," says Biff, recalling his youth.

Ooooooo

**July 19, 1966**

A new billboard is placed at the Lone Pine Ranch, near the road.

**Future Site of Lone Pine Mall.**

Oooooooo

**February 16, 1968**

After eating a breakfast of bagels, Kellogg's Frosted Flakes cereal, scrambled eggs, and sourdough toast, Biff Tannen gets into his Cadillac and starts the engine. He pulls off the driveway of the home he lived in for three years, from the time he and Meg separated. The home is located on the fringe of Hill Valley, right next to Clayton Ravine. It is an old home that BiffCo purchased for remodeling and resale. Biff decided to buy the home for himself, when he and Meg were headed for a divorce.

Biff drives to the BiffCo building on 1640 Riverside Drive. Inside his office- a huge room with fantastic views and expensive furniture-, he reads the latest updates on BiffCo's projects, including the construction of the Lone Pine Mall here in Hill Valley, a residential tower complex in the Watts section of Los Angeles, a gas station/fast food complex off the Hill Valley exit on Interstate 80, and the opening of a restaurant in San Francisco's waterfront district. He is fortunate to at least be able to spend the day in Hill Valley, since he goes on business trips half the time.

He reads the Hill Valley Telegraph and the Sacramento Bee. He reads about the civil rights movement as well as a border clash between Israel and Jordan. He glances at the sports section, which has been a habit ever since he got Gray's Sports Almanac.

At noon, Sherry brings him the mail. Biff usually reads the mail in his office before going to lunch, either at the grill in the building's lobby or the Burger King next door. He reads one particular letter.

_I might have to make another business trip soon. _

Ooooooooooo

**February 22, 1968**

Biff sits inside the BiffCo conference room , with his executives and some guests.

"Gentlemen," he says, looking at everyone in the room. "I have this proposal. I am going to put a ballot initiative to legalize gambling in the state of California."

"Legalize gambling?" asks Stan Cartman. "Like casinos and shit?"

"Yes," says Biff. "BiffCo will officially support this initiative."

"How do we do it, Biff?" asks George.

"Our guests here know the details about putting initiatives on the ballot."

"If we're lucky," says a man in his mid-forties who is a Sacramento lawyer, "we can have the initiative on the ballot by June. November's the latest. The most important thing is to gather signatures."

"So we could start now?" asks Cartman.

"There's some paperwork that has to be done," says the lawyer. "Once it's filed, the signatures can be collected and mailed to the secretary of state. My aide will give you all the text of the proposed initiative." A man in his early twenties with short blond hair passes out papers, which have many small letters printed on them. "This is a state constitutional amendment, which means that we have to gather a number of signatures equal to 8 of those who voted in the last election for governor."

"So we will gather the signatures once everything's ready?" asks Cartman.

"We're contracting it out professional signature gatherers," answers Biff.

"One more thing," says the lawyer. "An initiative needs a political action committee. BiffCo can not actually gather the signatures or write the initiative."

"Maybe we can call it Californians for a Better Future," suggests George.

"Good idea. I'll take care of the paperwork necessary. You, Mr. Tannen, will need to sign it if you want to be the founder of this Californians for a Better Future."

Ooooooooo

**April 13, 1968**

Lenny Powell takes a walk in the courthouse square with his wife Cassie and his five-year-old daughter and his infant son. It is a beautiful day. The layer of snow that had concealed the grassy areas had finally melted away, revealing the green grass. The place is quiet; this is not the case in the big cities where college students protest the war in Vietnam. While the air is cool, necessitating the wearing of sweaters, it is not the bitter cold of the previous month.

Lenny briefly reflects on world events and world history. The Vietnam War is not the first war that had great controversy; the opposition is getting plenty of positive media attention. Already the war is dragging down the popularity of the Kennedy administration, just as the Korean War had dragged down the popularity of the Truman administration.

"Excuse me," says a squeaky female voice.

Lenny and Cassie look at a red-haired girl with freckles. She is about nineteen, and she wears a rainbow shirt with the peace symbol on it.

"What would you like?" asks Cassie Powell.

"Ma'am, I would like you to sign this petition," says the girl. "It is for a ballot initiative to legalize gambling. This will create jobs and generate tax revenue for our schools and roads."

"Interesting," says Lenny, taking a pen and signing his name on the petition. "Tell me more about this."

A few minutes later, Lenny is inside one of the stores inside the Courthouse Square, that is being used a s a temporary volunteer center for Californians for a Better Future.

"So you really want to bring casino gambling to California?" asks Lenny.

"Absolutely," replies Goldie Wilson, a thirty-five year old man with tightly-curled black hair and a wide, bright grin. "We want to bring gambling here to create revenues for parks, schools, and roads."

"That's what the lady told me."

"We already gathered three thousand signatures," says Wilson, referring to a huge pile of papers on the desk. "We could get it on the June ballot; if not, we'll definitely have the signatures by November."

"Who is behind this Californians for a Better Future?"

"I can get you a list of the committee members, Mr. Powell."

"I know about your history, Mr. Wilson; your brother is my boss. You were in the civil rights marches, right?"

"Yes, I was. And now we have all those protests against the war in Vietnam. I wonder if many of those kids really understand what's at stake there. Don't get me wrong; I believed King when he said that Kennedy's train to the future was derailed in Vietnam. But do those kids understand? How many of them simply want the attention?" 

"They were inspired by the civil rights protests. Too bad what happened to King, though. Still, campaigning to legalize gambling is hugely different from marching for equal rights for Negroes."

"We all drive the same roads, and go to the same parks and schools now that we are beating back segregation. But we need funding for the schools and roads and parks. We certainly did not fight segregation so that everyone would be attending a _poor_ school."

Lenny soon leaves with a few papers in his hand.

"Do you really have to work today, Lenny?" asks Cassie.

"It only took a few minutes. How about I take you all to that steakhouse on the corner?"

oooooooo

**May 6, 1968**

The sights of students in colorful clothes marching down concrete pathways and chanting slogans and holding picket signs has become as familiar a sight as the buildings where the classes are held. Many of the students of University of California Berkeley cheer the protestors. Draft cards are being burned every day.

A young man in his late teens sits behind a table. He wears a multicolored shirt and a necklace with the peace symbol on it.

"Slot machines not machine guns!" he yells.

"What's this?" asks a young lady with red hair; her miniskirt revealing shapely legs.

"I'm from Californians for a Better Future," he says. "We're gathering signatures to put an initiative on the ballot to legalize casino gambling."

"Like in Reno and Las Vegas?"

"Yes. Gambling will bring revenues for schools and parks and roads."

"Okay." The girl takes a pen from her purse and signs the petition.

Ooooooo

**June 8, 1968**

The news media in America has been very busy lately. Aside from the ongoing war in Vietnam, the media also reported on the assassination of presidential candidate Robert F. Kennedy, who is the brother of outgoing President John F. Kennedy. One media interview is on another subjects. Millions of Americans watch, as they want to focus their attention on something other than the assassination of the president's brother- even if it is only for an hour.

"So you want to legalize gambling in California?" asks the host. "Isn't it true that you are doing this so that you can open your chain of casinos here?"

"Quite frankly, yes," replies Biff Tannen, sitting inside a television studio in Los Angeles. "I do want to open casinos for my business. But I ask viewers who live here in California, what does it mean for you. It means more jobs, more revenues for schools and roads and parks. More money for police and firefighters. The California Teachers' Association has just endorsed my initiative."

"You made a lot of money betting on sporting events."

"I was just the luckiest man on Earth." Biff smiles.

"What did you do before you founded BiffCo?"

"I was a young man back then, so I traveled a lot and partied a lot. I remember this one time, when I was in the Bahamas and there was this guy who stopped breathing and I got him to start breathing again. Anyway, I felt that I needed to do more than travel the world, so I founded BiffCo back in 1961. I founded the Biff Tannen Foundation in '63, to share my luck with those who don't have it. I should add, that the Biff Tannen Foundation owns forty-five percent of BiffCo."

"Any opinions on the assassination of Robert F. Kennedy?"

"A terrible tragedy," says Biff. "I met his brother, President John Kennedy, a few times. Californians for a Better Future was seeking his endorsement."

"And your personal life?" 

"I'm divorced, sadly. I still keep contact with my son, Cliff- he's three now. I am dating."

"Good luck with that, Mr. Tannen."


	8. Power of the Media

**September 23, 1968**

The engine of the '66 Chevrolet shuts down, and Lenny Powell steps out. He has parked his car on a street on the outskirts of Hill Valley; tall trees dominate the landscape. He can feel the residual warmth of the summer, knowing that it will be gone by next month.

He walks towards the asphalt driveway of a large house, larger than his own home in Lyon Estates. The thirty-year-old reporter recalls a few things about the house- it had been first built in the early 1880's, and was later abandoned. BiffCo purchased the home and remodeled it.

Powell walks to the wooden front door, which looks brand new and yet has the style of an eighty-year-old antique. He rings the doorbell.

A lady in a typical maid's outfit opens the door.

"Lenny Powell, Hill Valley Telegraph," says Lenny.

"Just wait here, Mr. Powell," replies the maid.

"Mr. Powell," says a female voice. Powell looks and sees a woman who appears to be in her early thirties with shoulder-length brown hair.

"You must be Mrs. McFly," says Lenny. He recalls that she was in Hill Valley High's Class of '56. "Is your husband here? I was hoping to reach him."

"No," replies Lorraine Baines McFly. "He's away on a business trip. Something about a proposition."

"That's what I wanted to talk to him about. I know he's advising the campaign."

A loud infant's cry is heard. "Marty must be hungry," says Lorraine. "I'd better go see to him."

"When was he born?" asks Lenny.

"This June."

"Really? My wife and I had a boy in February of this year. Maybe they'll be friends in a few years."

"I don't know. George is considering sending our kids to private school; we've been looking for a private kindergarten for our oldest son Dave."

Lenny notices something on Lorraine McFly's face. "What happened to you?"

"This?" asks Lorraine, putting a hand on the bruised right side of her face. "I, uh, fell down the stairs. That's it."

"Accidents happen, Mrs. McFly."

"George still loves me. He buys my clothes, paid for this house in full, supports our kids. He still loves me."

"Mrs. McFly," says a female voice distinct from Lorraine's voice and the maid's voice. "Linda spilled spaghetti sauce over herself."

"I'd better be going, Mr. Powell," says Lorraine. "I'll tell George you were looking for him."

"Thank you, Mrs. McFly."

Lenny turns around and walks towards his car.

Ooooooooo

Carmine Ciccone steps out of the Gulfstream II jet aircraft and sets his loafer-adorned feet on the tarmac of the airport. The airport is small, mostly for private jets. This is another thing that Ciccone likes about this airport; it is much less crowded than O'Hare International Airport.

"Come on," he says. He and his thugs enter a white Lincoln limousine. The limousine leaves the airport and soon travels the highways of metropolitan Chicago. Ciccone looks at his hometown. He looks at the downtown Chicago skyline; a few buildings are under construction.

The scenery of bustling downtown Chicago is replaced by the quiet neighborhoods. The limo drives down a quiet street with large elaborate mansions. Finally, the limo stops at a brownstone mansion set back one hundred feet from the street.

"Thank you," Ciccone says to the driver.

"You're welcome, sir," replies the driver, a Negro man in a dark uniform. "Have a nice day, Mr. Ciccone."

Ciccone and his escorts walks to the front door of the brownstone that is located about seven miles from the Chicago Loop. The door opens and a man in his late fifties appears, dressed in a polo shirt and jeans.

"Uncle Sal!" says Carmine. The two men hug. "How have you been?"

"Hi, Carmine," replies Uncle Sal. "I've been keepin' the fort here."

"Carmine!"

Carmine looks and sees a dark-haired lady in her early sixties. "Ma!" he says, hugging the lady.

"My boy," says Ma Ciccone. "So good to see you."

"Great to see you here, Ma. Is everyone here?"

"Your uncle Frank and Aunt Maria are already here. Why don't we go meet them?"

The interior of the mansion is decorated in dark tones, with dark blue carpets and leather furniture and dark mahogany wood tables and bookcases. The atmosphere inside the mansion smells of richness.

But the gathering is not inside the mansion; the gathering is in the backyard. A concrete patio overlooks a huge manicured lawn watered with Lake Michigan water.

"Nuthin' like a good old hamburger cooked over an open grill," says Uncle Sal, looking at the ground beef patties sizzling from charcoal-fire-generated heat.

"I hear you, Uncle Sal," replies Carmine.

"Carmine," says a lady who appears to be a little younger than his mother.

"Aunt Maria," replies Carmine. "So good to see you."

"We didn't see you here last time."

"There was that snowstorm, remember?"

The extended Ciccone family gather around the barbecue on this early fall day in Chicago. They had done this for generations, ever since Louie Ciccone stepped off the train in Chicago almost fifty years before. Some of the Ciccones had planted roots in other places like Los Angeles, California and Reno, Nevada. They all talk about their lives, and current events.

"I heard you're planning to open some casinos in California," says Uncle Sal.

"Yeah," replies Carmine, holding a hamburger. "We got this campaign goin' to legalize casino gambling. This fellow, Biff Tannen, he's a businessman from this town in the mountains- he's financing the campaign along with myself."

"So L.A. and San Francisco are gonna be like Reno and Vegas." A sly grin appears on Uncle Sal's face. "I can't imagine what would happen to Vegas."

"Vegas will probably be a ghost town," says Carmine. "Reno's a stopover for trucks and trains, even before the casinos went up. Plus living there is cheaper." He takes a bite out of the hamburger. "These hamburgers are great, 'specially with the mozzarella on top of the patty."

"Just the way I've beem cookin' it since before the war. The war with Germany and Japan, not with Korea or Vietnam."

"I remember when Carmine used to call dibs on these burgers," says a young lady, one of Carmine's cousins.

"And his Uncle Sal used to give him rides on piggyback," says Ma Ciccone. "He wanted to be a cowboy."

"I heard there are a couple of ranches near Reno," says Uncle Sal. "Including some ranches that provide…other services."

"Why pay for it when you can get it for free?" asks Carmine.

Oooooooo

**October 17, 1968**

Dr. Emmett Brown looks at the glass tubes assembled on his wooden work bench. He sends a small electric current through the apparatus, and very expensive advanced electronic equipment measures what is happening.

He then looks at the readouts of the measuring equipment. He writes a few notes on a sheet of paper.

He takes another look at the drawing that he had made nearly thirteen years ago. Memories of the week following the drawing briefly surface his mind.

The doctor proceeds to bring the papers to a fireproof safe that he had acquired almost thirteen years ago. Without that safe he would have lost the plans for the flux capacitor in the fire.

He looks at his color television, which has been on for quite some time. He then sees an ad, which begins with an image of children playing.

"California is a great state," says a voice. "We rely on parks." An image appears of children playing on a public park. "..schools…" an image of a teacher in classroom with second-grade students "..hospitals…" an image of smiling nurses at a nurses' station in a hospital "…roads…" an image of trucks and cars traveling along a freeway "police and fire protection." an image of police cars and fire engines. "By passing Prop 49, we can get new revenues for parks, schools, roads, police, and fire. That is why Prop 49 is supported by teachers, firefighters, and police officers." An image of the interior of a casino with slot machines and tables fades into an image of a collage of school classrooms, parks, police cars, and fire engines. "Vote Yes on Prop 49. Vote Yes for California's future."

"This message paid for by Californians For a Better Future," says another voice.

_Casino gambling, _thinks Emmett. Marty McFly had not mentioned casino gambling being legal in 1985.

Then again, he did not exactly give Emmett Brown a lesson in future history. Emmett only has a few clues about what life would be like in 1985. History had a few surprises for him already, such as the Cuban Missile Crisis and the assassination of the President's younger brother earlier this year.

The scientist is glad that he has time off to do this research, since he is usually busy teaching at a nearby university. Perhaps he should cash in on a sabbatical.

There are more pressing concerns, such as dinner. He walks out of his garage and towards the Burger King restaurant to order a meal.

Oooooooo

**November 5, 1968**

The polls are closed in California, and people are watching the television news services to find out who won the race to succeed President John F. Kennedy. The race was an interesting one, due to the fact that the ongoing Vietnam War had affected the presidency, and made President Kennedy the most unpopular president since Harry Truman. Vice President Lyndon Johnson had been defeated in the race for the Democratic nomination. The vice president's defeat was a sign that voters were turning against Kennedy. In fact, a constitutional amendment that had passed Congress in 1966 to overturn presidential term limits had stalled in the ratification process. In any event, Kennedy will not be serving a third term as supporters of the amendment had hoped.

The presidential race is on the back burner of the minds of a small group of people who gather in a large room in Hill Valley, California. Several color televisions are tuned in to local television stations, and reporters from the Hill Valley Telegraph, the Sacramento Bee, the San Francisco Chronicle, and the Los Angeles Times are among them.

Everyone in the room cheers.

The news networks called a victory for Proposition 49. Casino gambling will become legal statewide on January 1.

"You did it, Tannen," says Carmine Ciccone. "You sure know how to organize things."

"I couldn't have done it without you and your fundraising," says Biff Tannen.

An aide hands him a sheet of paper. Biff steps to a podium to address everyone; he is clad in an expensive-looking three-piece suit.

"We have won," says Biff. "I want to thank all of you for your support. Because of our hard work, we were able to secure a better future for our families, our neighbors, and our state. We've struggled, we've persevered, and we've won."

Everyone in the room claps.

Oooooooo

**January 1, 1969**

"Happy New Year!"

The year of 1969 is rung in in Hill Valley. People across town all raise toasts to the new year, hoping for a new start.

Over three thousand people are gathered in the Lone Pine Casino at the Lone Pine Mall. The casino floor is huge, with slot machines and tables and people ready to go. The carpet is covered with emblems of a single pine tree. The casino has a provisional permit from the governor's office, effective from January 1 to June 30.

"Now that it's 1969," says Biff Tannen, "let the games begin. Don't forget, the rest of the mall opens at six A.M."

Immediately, the slot machines are turned on. Card dealers start dealing their cards. Less than a minute after midnight, the first sounds of coins hitting the coin tray radiate throughout the huge room.

"This is great!" says Match.

"Too bad Skinhead couldn't be here," says 3-D, sporting a pair of sunglasses. Skinhead is celebrating with his wife and kids.

"Mr. Tannen," says a dealer clad in a black vest over a white shirt. "a pleasure to be your dealer, sir."

Biff plops down a hundred. "I'm betting this," he says.

Biff is dealt a four and a seven. The dealer's upcard is a four.

"You should double," says Clarence Leeds, the chief financial officer for BiffCo. "You got an eleven, and you have a good chance of catching twenty-one."

"Sure, Leeds," replies Biff. He takes another one hundred dollar bill from his wallet. The dealer draws a card from the shoe and deals him a nine. Biff smiles at the total.

The dealer then draws, and finally stands at twenty-one.

"Off to a bad start, eh boss?" asks the dealer.

"Some of it will return to me," replies Biff.

_Maybe I can look in the almanac for some scores. _

Ooooooooo

**August 20, 1969**

The landscape of Mississippi, once a landscape of farms and towns, is now something out of a post-atomic horror movie. Hurricane Camille had recently swept through the area, leaving major destruction in its wake, as it randomly dropped atomic bombs. Houses were now piles of wood. Trees lay on their sides. A few bridges had washed away. Bay St. Louis was the hardest hit.

Thousands of volunteers had poured in to help. Dozens of charitable organizations, both religious and secular, provide fresh water and food.

Biff Tannen himself sits on a foldaway chair in the ruins of Bay St. Louis. He wears a shirt and jeans, much more casual than what he wears to the office and in nightclubs. Photographers snap pictures as he hands a Hershey's milk chocolate bar to a six-year-old boy.

"The Biff Tannen Foundation is here, ready to help our neighbors who have lost much in this devastating hurricane," says Biff. He looks at the volunteers, all wearing hard hats and jeans, all transported here by vehicles rented by the Foundation.

He smiles. Biff is not here only for charitable reasons. Tomorrow, he has an appointment with a local developer.

Ooooooooooo

**May 7, 1970**

Even over a year after it opened, the Lone Pine Casino at the Lone Pine Mall is still a bustling place. About a fifth of the people in the casino had come from out of town, learning about this place from billboards along Interstate 80, from ads in television and newspaper, or plain word-of-mouth. Being in a town like Hill Valley and not a big city like San Francisco or Los Angeles, the Lone Pine Casino offers liberal rules in its table games, such as single-zero roulette, and loose slots.

Sitting at one of the slot machines, Dr. Emmett Brown collects the quarters and places them inside a plastic cup. He came here today, glad to have a break from teaching at the university or experimenting with flux capacitor prototypes. The air has the slight odor of cigarette smoke. People sit at the tables, while others are playing the slot machines as the scientist had.

Walking along the casino's floor, Emmett notices a group of people sitting at the 49er bar, a bar located adjacent to the casino. The bar itself is in a lounge with a marble-tiled floor as opposed to the casino's carpet. He recognizes one of the men, who now appear to be in his early thirties and wearing the latest in fashions.

Emmett sits at the bar next to the man.

"Want anything?" asks a bartender in a green outfit showing her cleavage.

"A Pepsi," replies the scientist. He recalls, from his days when he was studying f or his doctorate at the age of twenty-one, what alcohol does to him. "I've read your book," he says to the man.

"You did?" asks George McFly. "I had a book signing in San Francisco last week."

Emmett had first seen George McFly fifteen years ago. At the time, the then-teenager was being kicked, a Kick Me sign taped to his back. Marty had told Doc a lot about his father, describing him as a wimp who would not stand up for himself, stuck in a dead-end job.

George's demeanor in the bar belies what Marty had said. Perhaps it was due to something Marty had done in trying to get his parents together.

"What do you know of my reputation?" asks Emmett.

"I have heard some crazy shit about you, Brown," says George.

"Do you believe it?"

George glances at his buddies. "That depends. That depends on what I want to believe about you."

"What do you mean?"

"The media is a tool to shape public opinion. Millions of people watch TV. They get their opinions from newspapers. Have you heard of the Spanish-American War?"

"Yes."

"Two newspaper moguls – William Randolph Hearst and Joseph Pulitzer- beat the drums for war. Remember the Maine, they chanted. The whole public wanted revenge on Spain, even though it was never proven that Spain was behind the explosion. Today, the antiwar protestors are getting favorable coverage. They know how to use the media to shape public opinion. To manipulate what millions of people think, that is power." George drinks a green liquid from a glass. "BiffCo is in negotiations to purchase Universal. Once it's done, I will control the biggest media empire in the country."

"You mean Biff will."

George's smile narrows slightly. "On paper. Do you want me to autograph your book. If you don't have it, you can call the office for an appointment."

"I'll consider it." Doc gets up and leaves. Marty will be in for a shock when he returns to 1985.

Ooooooooo

**August 12, 1970. **

Clarence Leeds walks along the hallway in the BiffCo building. He just had a three-hour session poring over BiffCo's books. After a hard day's work of tracking a multi-million dollar industry, he figures he can relax a bit before heading out to the Lone Pine Casino.

Clarence enters a large office. The office is paneled in wood, and has posters decorating the walls.

"Clarence," says George McFly, sitting behind his desk. "Working hard?"

"Yeah, George," replies Clarence. He removes something from his suit coat. He removes the cap and spreads a white powdery substance on a glass plate on George's desk.

George takes a straw and inhales the powder into his nose. "Nothing like fine powder to end a hard workday."

"Yeah, you gotta love Biff's connections," says Clarence, snorting some of the powder. "You know, I wonder if it is a good idea to have those extra expenditures."

"We deserve it," replies George. "The fact is, Biff knows jack shit about running a business. Without _us, _he would have pissed away his fortune and starved to death on the streets years ago."

"Still, he does have a good life. Ever met that lady he's married to now? Much better looking that his first."

"Enough about him. I have this idea for a movie." George smiles. With BiffCo's acquisition of Universal Pictures, George now wields a lot of influence in the motion picture industry.

Oooooooo

**May 28, 1971**

Carmine Ciccone and two of his guards steps out of the Lincoln limousine and walks along the tarmac of the Reno airport. A slight breeze blows across the wide open expanse of the airport.

He enters a small Cessna 337 Skymaster airplane. It is not as roomy as a Gulfstream jet, but his destination is not far- San Jose, California.

"Howdy," says the pilot, wearing a billed cap and sunglasses. "All ready to go?"

"Sure," replies Ciccone.

Powered by two Continental IO-360-C piston engines, Skymaster takes off from the runway and soars into the blue sky. Soon the craft is above the clear blue waters of Lake Tahoe. The snow-capped Sierra Nevada mountains are easily visible.

Carmine looks at his watch. He should be in San Jose in less than two hours, preparing for tonight's premiere of the casino that he is opening. A few people in the family, including his ma and his Uncle Sal, will be flying in today.

He looks at the landscape. He had flown from Reno to the Pacific coast many times, and is amazed by the beauty and variety of the landscape below.

He notices that the features on the ground are appearing bigger, which means the plane is descending.

"Why are we going down?" asks the gangster. "We're not anywhere near San Jose."

"I do want to have a closer look at the landscape below," replies the pilot.

Carmine looks at his personal organizer. He will have a lot to do once the plane touches down. Maybe he can spend some time in San Francisco the next day.

He suddenly feels a breeze blow through the cabin.

"Goodbye, suckers," says the pilot as he jumps out of an open door.

Carmine Ciccone looks out as the pilot falls through the sky. A parachute opens up, slowing down the former pilot's descent.

Then the Cessna Skymaster bursts in flames, scattering plane parts and human body parts over the Sierra Nevada Mountains.


	9. What the Hell is That!

**May 31, 1971**

The Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI) field office in Reno, Nevada is located inside the federal building within a short walking distance from the casino district. Inside the office are several desks with typewriters. File cabinets contain files on cases ranging from fraud to drug trafficking to investigations of antiwar protest groups. The whole office has this organized feel; everything is neat and tidy. Not a paper is out of place.

Two FBI agents enter a small corner office that has a view of the downtown Reno skyline. One of them is heavyset and about 5'8"; the other is skinny and about 6'1". Both of them wear the standard FBI outfit of a black business suit, just like what the man sitting behind the desk is wearing.

"What's up, boss?" asks Agent Reese, the taller of the two.

"Carmine Ciccone," says the supervising agent. "He _was_ up, until the Cessna Skymaster he was riding in crashed in the Sierras under mysterious circumstances."

"What do we know about Mr. Ciccone?" asks Agent Foley, the heavier of the two.

"Born in Chicago, moved to Reno twelve years ago," says the boss. "His father and uncle are known members of the Ciccone crime family, both of them with felony records. We suspect Carmine moved to Reno to expand the family's operations, but we could not make a case to haul him before a judge."

"And you think he was murdered?"

"The FAA is still investigating. You two keep an eye on it."

"Yes, sir," replies Reese.

Ooooooooo

**September**, **1972**

The steel of the razor makes contact with lathered skin as Lenny Powell shaves his face. The motion of the razor makes a track on his face. He briefly glances at himself in the mirror. He has a few more lines; clearly, he has grown from the young intern working at the Hill Valley Telegraph. 

"Ready for another day at work, honey?" asks his wife Cassie, putting her hands on his shoulders.

"You make me ready, dear," replies Lenny.

Leaving the bathroom, he walks around the rest of his house. The interior looks much different than when he and Cassie bought it brand news, or when the kids were still babies. Baby toys are out; instead toys for slightly older children decorate the place.

"Morning, Daddy," says a high-pitched voice.

"Good morning, Andy," says Lenny, looking at his tow-headed four-year-old son. "Daddy has to go to work."

He opens the door to another bedroom. The interior of the bedroom is decorated with plush stuffed toys.

"Ready for school?"

"Yes, Daddy," replies his daughter Kate, holding a dress.

Lenny leaves his house and goes to work. A few hours later, he is at the courthouse square along with a hundred other people, all under a sky decorated with puffy cumulus clouds.

"Good morning," says the mayor, standing at the top of the courthouse steps. "Thank you all for being here. Today we have a new beginning- a beginning to revitalize our downtown."

Lenny looks around. A few stores in the Courthouse Square had closed; the sign lettering removed, leaving only shadows behind.

"Mr. Tannen, if you will," says the mayor.

Biff Tannen approaches the microphone. He looks at the crowd gathered in the park. He brushes his hand against his light brown hair.

"Thank you all," he says, holding a sheet of paper. "My company has made a deal with the city to revitalize this square. For over eighty years, the Courthouse Square has been the heart of our town." The crowd applauds. "And now I reveal the centerpiece of this project. This building, this old courthouse, will be rebuilt."

An aide removes the tarp covering a large object that is for display.

"We will turn this courthouse into a beautiful hotel-casino. I introduce the Pleasure Paradise."

Lenny and the others take a look at the model. The centerpiece is a tall tower. Lenny can make out the original roof of the clock tower; apparently Biff intends to have the hotel added to the existing building, instead of demolishing it. A large model of a water fountain is in front of the model of the hotel-casino.

"The Pleasure Paradise will have one thousand rooms. An eighty thousand square foot casino will serve locals and visitors alike. The casino will include three full-scale restaurants. We expect that five hundred jobs to be generated by the construction and the operation of the casino. The casino will be jointly owned by BiffCo and the city of Hill Valley."

The crowd applauds.

"And now we start," says Biff, holding a shovel while smiling. "We build ourselves a better future."

He walks down the steps towards the grass growing in the small park in front of the courthouse. He pushes the head of the shovel into the dirt and lifts it up, throwing up dirt and roots.

"Okay, everyone!" yells the mayor. "This is a construction site now. Everyone clear out so the workers can start."

Oooooooo

**October, 1972**

Biff sits down on his comfortable easy chair facing the television screen, holding a bottle of Miller beer. The World Series is on, between the Chicago Cubs and the Detroit Tigers.

The businessman reflects on recent events in his life. He no longer has to worry about Carmine Ciccone asking for unannounced favors, ever since Biff arranged for him to shuffle off his mortal coil last year.

But more recent was his divorce- his second one. While Biff got to keep his home next to Clayton Ravine, he does miss that mansion in the Hollywood Hills, with its tiled floors and lush landscaping fed by water from the L.A. Aqueduct.

He walks to his bedroom and moves a huge portrait of himself aside, revealing a safe built into the wall. He enters the combination of the safe- 11, 12, and 55. Opening the safe, he sees Gray's Sports Almanac. He had not used the book in many years.

He takes the book back to his living room. He flips through the pages to find out what the score will be.

What he sees on the page surprises him very much.

The entry for the results of the 1972 World Series is blank. Biff turns the pages, and every page afterwards is blank.

"What the hell?" asks Biff.

He watches the game for the next few hours while sipping beers. The game reaches the top of the ninth. An outfielder catches the ball, and the game is over.

Biff looks at the almanac. Suddenly, text appears in the page; as if the end of the game had caused an invisible printing press to print on the page.

The text is that of the results of Game 1 of the 1972 World Series.

"Holy shit," he says, a second before dropping the almanac.

Oooooooo

**February, 1973**

Agent Reese pulls the Ford Crown Victoria into the parking space at 1640 John F. Kennedy Drive. He and Agent Foley step out of the vehicle and look at the BiffCo tower, which is eight years old.

They enter the lobby, which is decorated with dark marble tiles. A water fountain sits at the center. A Wells Fargo bank branch is located next to the lobby.

Foley presses a button to call the elevator. When the doors open, they enter the elevator, and press the button to take them to the BiffCo office suites on the top floor.

The doors open to reveal another lobby with the same style of tiled floor as the ground floor lobby. A pair of wooden double doors with the BiffCo logo- Biff smiling and holding a Cuban cigar- reveals the entrance to BiffCo's offices.

They open the doors and show their FBI badges. "FBI," says Agent Reese. "We're looking for Biff Tannen."

"They're not here," says a young lady with auburn hair.

The two men open the door to one of the offices. A dark-haired man is on the phone.

"Excuse me," the man says, "may I help you?"

"Reese, FBI," says Reese, flashing his badge. "You must be George McFly."

"That's the name on my desk here," replies George.

"You seem to have an interesting job, McFly," says Reese. "Doing marketing for BiffCo, running all the media operations."

"It's pleasant work."

"I even read your book," says Foley. "Putting Your Mind To It."

"You want me to sign the book?"

"We want to ask you a few questions," says Foley. "What do you do for the company?"

"I direct marketing for the company's business, I run the media divisions, that includes Dark Invader Publishing and Universal Pictures."

"Do you know of any shady dealings by the company?"

"That's not my department, gentlemen."

"We have evidence of corruption, such as your company's involvement with Proposition 49, the one that legalized gambling."

"We hired a bunch of lawyers from Sacramento to advise us. What we did was legal."

"We know of your boss's dealings with elected officials both here in Hill Valley and in Sacramento," says Reese.

"You need to befriend politicians to get through the bureaucracy."

Reese throws down a photograph. "See the man next to Mr. Tannen? That's Carmine Ciccone, of the Ciccone crime family."

George looks at the picture of Ciccone, who is standing next to Biff. The picture had been taken the night of the 1968 elections. "I might have seen him once or twice. How is he doing?"

"He's dead," says Foley. "Died in a plane crash in the Sierras under mysterious circumstances. Does your boss know anything about that?"

"You really think Biff is that sort of person?" asks George.

"He and Mr. Ciccone have done lots of business. Maybe they had a disagreement."

George stands up. "And so Biff would cause a plane crash. You sound like you are writers for some big conspiracy movie. I deal with writers all the time."

"We also looked into your acquisition of the property that you turned into the Lone Pine Mall," says Foley. "Otis Peabody was screaming about aliens."

"He has a history of that. He got spooked and sold his property."

"Well, we're thinking someone in the company might have helped him see aliens."

"Well, if someone did that, I am sure no one from the company was involved."

Reese pulls George's tie and knocks on his head. "Hello? Anybody home? Think, McFly, think. We have evidence pointing to this company. We know that Biff Tannen has all sorts of connections. We know that Carmine Ciccone was one of them. We're getting to the truth. What makes you think that Tannen won't throw you under the bus when he sees trouble coming?"

George's eyes widen a bit. "You have nothing, absolutely nothing."

"Wanna bet on it, McFly?" Reese and Foley turn around and leave.

Ooooooooo

**March 15, 1973**

The yellow Citroen Dyane taxicab pulls up on the brick-lined driveway. George McFly steps out and pays the taxi driver.

"Have a nice evening," says the driver.

The sun is setting. The front lawn of the McFly home is covered in snow, and the trees are still bare, yet to grow new leaves.

George approaches the front door of the home that he had lived in for eight years. Earlier today, he was in Los Angeles meeting with movie producers. The thirty-four-year old author, publisher, and business executive flew from Los Angeles to Sacramento, took the train to Hill Valley, and then caught a taxi at the train station. Inserting the key, he unlocks the door and enters his home.

_I still have time before I go to the community center. _

He takes his bag and walks upstairs to the huge master bedroom. The centerpiece of the bedroom is a king-sized bed. The floor is covered in a blue carpet. George opens the closet door. He looks at the fine wardrobe inside, wondering what to wear tonight. After looking for a few minutes, he removes a coat from the closet. He closes the closet door, and sees his wife Lorraine in the reflection.

"Hi, Lorraine," says George. "How were things here at home?"

" I found this," his wife replies. She holds a pair of blue panties. "These aren't mine, and Dave and Marty are too young to have girls over."

"And?"

"I know about what you've been doing, George. What did you do in your trip to L.A.? _Whom _did you do?"

"So what?" asks George, turning around.

"I don't know why I put up with this! I'm leaving!"

"Leaving?" asks George. "Who's going to pay for your clothes? And your booze? And your trips to Mexico and Hawaii?"

"I'd rather have loyalty."

The reply is a swift backhand to the face. "I work hard to support you and the kids. Don't you dare talk to me like that!"

"George," says Lorraine.

"Whom do you think you are to talk back to me like that?" George pushes Lorraine down on the bed and then starts squeezing her neck. Lorraine could feel herself running out of air. She tries to inhale, but no air enters her lungs. The whole world seems to fade away.

After a minute, he lets go. Lorraine lies face down on the bed and does not move.

A few minutes later, George McFly is driving his blue Cadillac on the streets of Hill Valley. A brief memory surfaces in his mind, memories of his father, and his home life during the '40's and '50's.

"I am nothing like him," George mutters as he grips the steering wheel. "He was a slacker who got nowhere. I make one hundred thousand a year, I meet with producers and movie stars, I wrote a best selling book."

He parks the Cadillac at the parking lot of the Hill Valley Community Center. Setting the parking brake, he steps out into the cold March evening air. It is much colder than the air in Los Angeles.

He walks along the concrete pathway.

"McFly!" someone calls.

George turns around and sees a man wearing a blue overcoat, with sideburns on his face.

"Biff," he says. "What brings you here?"

"Just came here to congratulate you on the award you're getting," replies Biff.

"Yeah," replies George. "I got back from a trip to L.A. today. Is there any business to discuss?"

"We can discuss it tomor.." Biff pauses and his eyelids widen. "Whoa."

"What?" asks George.

"What the hell is that?" Biff yells, pointing past George's shoulder.

George turns his head around.

A hammer strikes the primer of a revolver cartridge. The primer explodes, setting off the cartridge's gunpowder charge. The gunpowder explosion propels a bullet. The bullet strikes George's left temple, blasting through hair, skin, bone, and brain. It exists the other side, with bone and skin and brain tissue following it.

Biff bends down and takes George's wallet.

"Butthead," he says.


	10. Third Time's the Charm

**March 15, 1973**

Lenny Powell sits down on a chair inside the huge room in the Hill Valley Community Center. Donald Wilson, the editor of the Hill Valley Telegraph, had assigned him to cover the civic award ceremony. He bought dinner from Burger King for himself and his family. He listens as one of the awardees makes a speech.

"And now we give the next award to a man who has come far in Hill Valley," says the emcee, a city councilman. "He is an executive in one of the most successful businesses in the country, he worked behind the scenes in the motion picture industry, and he even wrote a best selling book. I hereby present this High Achievement Award to George McFly."

Lenny looks around. He had met George a couple of times. He can see that George is not here.

_Maybe he's in the restroom._

"Mr. McFly?" asks the emcee. "Where are you?" The crowd looks around, and George McFly is not in the room. "I guess I can just mail him the award." The emcee then continues presenting awards.

Lenny drops his ballpoint pen when he hears a scream.

"Come outside!" shrieks a woman.

Lenny runs outside along with a few others. People are milling around a spot in the concrete pathway.

Lenny looks down, and sees George McFly lying there, with the concrete nearby stained red.

Ooooooooo

**March 16, 1973**

A boy on a Schwinn bicycle pedals along John F. Kennedy Drive, a basket full of Hill Valley Telegraph newspapers attached to the bike. The sun is just peeking above the eastern horizon. The boy can still feel the chill despite wearing a heavy coat.

There is only one place on John F. Kennedy Drive that is on his route, a house converted from a garage near a Burger King restaurant. The paperboy throws a newspaper towards the garage.

A few minutes later, Dr. Emmett Brown picks up the paper. The headline shocks him, the biggest shock since that fateful day in 1955.

"Great Scott!" he exclaims. He read the headline out loud "George McFly Murdered."

Emmett sits down on the bed. This did not happen _originally_; Marty had told him about his father.

_What did you do, Marty? What could you have done to change your past like _this?

Emmett had only seen George McFly a couple of times, starting back in November of 1955. It was Marty who had interacted with George so that the time traveler could ensure his own existence. Emmett did have a glimpse of what George's like was like up to 1955.

He was taking Marty to the McFly home so Marty could pull a prank to get George to ask Lorraine Baines to the Enchantment Under the Sea Dance. Emmett had heard noises from the home- screaming, and the sound of leather striking flesh. The teen from the future had heard this too, and was quite disturbed.

And now Marty will be very disturbed once he arrives in 1985.

Ooooooooo

**March 21, 1973**

FBI Agent Reese looks at the autopsy report as he sits inside the FBI office in Reno, Nevada.

"Let's see," he says. "George McFly was going to receive a civic award at the Hill Valley Community Center in Hill Valley. He was found shot to death. His wallet was missing, so it looks like a holdup."

"But you don't think it's a holdup?" asks Agent Foley.

"McFly was a top executive for a company that did business with a member of the Ciccone crime family," answers Reese.

"Maybe Biff Tannen had something to do with Carmine Ciccone's death."

"So why put a hit on McFly instead of Tannen himself?"

Foley leans closer. "George McFly must have met with Carmine Ciccone many more times than he was willing to admit last month. And he did leak some information."

"Just to save his own hide," says Reese. "For all the good that did. The Ciccone crime family could have done it. Maybe even someone from BiffCo, if the information McFly gave us were to lead anywhere."

"Perhaps we should pay another visit to Hill Valley tomorrow," suggests Foley.

Ooooooooo

**March 22, 1973**

The door opens, and Biff Tannen looks up from his desk. Two men in suits enter his private office in the BiffCo building in Hill Valley. They flash their FBI badges.

"How may I help you?" asks Biff.

"We're here to ask about the murder of George McFly," says Agent Foley.

"Why is the FBI involved?" asks Biff. "The Hill Valley police questioned me about it the day after it happened. It's so hard to find a good replacement these days."

"We were investigating a man named Carmine Ciccone, whose relatives were active in Chicago's Ciccone crime family," says Reese

"I've done business with Ciccone," replies Biff. "I heard about the plane crash a few years ago. But I didn't know about him being in a crime family."

"What sort of business did you do with Carmine Ciccone?"

"My company deals with property development and management. Ciccone's businesses provided equipment rentals and supplies."

"You see, Tannen, we've been thinkin'," says Foley. "We think that George McFly's murder is connected to this company, and to your dealings with Carmine Ciccone."

"Are you saying Ciccone ordered a hit on McFly?" asks Biff, his eyes widening. "Ciccone died in '71."

"There've been some questionable practices in your company," says Reese. "The crime family might want to keep some things secret. McFly was in charge of your media and marketing operations, correct?"

"Yeah."

"He might have known something. And you could be next, Tannen. Is there anything going on in your company that might be suspicious."

Biff holds his chin. "I did read the company's books the other day," he says. "And something does not add up. I think some money might have been stolen."

"You sure?" asks Foley.

"I'm no accountant."

"So who's in charge of your books?"

"Clarence Leeds. He's been with the company since the beginning."

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Tannen," says Reese.

The two FBI agents leave the BiffCo offices.

"Tannen knows more than he's telling us," says Foley.

Oooooooo

Later that day, Biff parks his Chevrolet on the street next to the McFly home. He walks the brick-lined pathway and rings the doorbell.

An auburn-haired, freckle-faced maid barely into adulthood opens the door. "Mr. Tannen," she says. "I wasn't expecting you."

"I didn't plan on coming here. Is Mrs. McFly home?"

"Sure."

_He had good taste,_ Biff thinks as he sees the maid walk, her shapely legs exposed by the short skirt.

Lorraine Baines McFly comes to the front door. "Hi Biff," she says. "Come on in."

Biff walks into the living room. It is luxurious, with a white carpet and white couches. It is well kept, obviously due to the maid. Lorraine was in no condition to do housekeeping.

"How have you been doing?" he asks.

"Terrible," says Lorraine. "I miss him. I think this is a nightmare that I can't wake out of. At least he left us with a lot of money."

They both hear the front door open. A dark-haired woman in her mid-twenties enters, dressed in a dark sweater. Two children, a boy of about eight and a girl of about six, follow her inside. The boy and girl both wear dark uniforms, the uniform of an expensive private elementary school.

"Mrs. McFly," says the woman. "David and Linda are home from school."

"Thanks, Bertha," says Lorraine.

"Oh," says Bertha, upon seeing Biff. "I didn't know we had company."

"I'd better make sure they do their studies. Is Marty okay?"

"Yes," says Lorraine. "He's too young to understand what this really means."

Oooooooo

**April, 1973**

The McFlys' maid collects the mail as she usually does. She then walks into the living room to set the mail down on the coffee table like she always does.

"Mrs. McFly!" she yells. "The mail is here!"

Lorraine walks down the stairs to look at the mail. The maid had worked at the McFly home for two years now, ever since she turned eighteen. She did like the McFly family.

Especially Mr. McFly. He was good at certain things; things that make her heart skip a beat as well as moistening other parts of her body. She misses him so dearly, and yet she knows she must keep her spirits up. She is lucky that she still has this job. It pays much better than being a waitress.

Lorraine's eyes widen upon reading a piece of paper from one of the envelopes. The maid can tell that it is definitely not a flyer advertising some product or service.

"What's wrong?" asks the maid.

"Don't you have something to clean up?"

Lorraine walks up to the master bedroom. Sitting on the bed, she reads the notices from the Internal Revenue Service and the Franchise Tax Board.

The notice is that of tax liens being placed due to back taxes owed.

Oooooooo

The sign at what was the McFly home read Century 21. The house now belongs to the government, and it is to be sold to pay the back taxes owed by George McFly.

Things are being moved into the van. However, it is not a moving van. The contents of the house are being confiscated by the government to be sold at an auction.

Four-year-old Marty McFly looks up at his mother, and then at the home that is no longer his.

"What now, Mommy?" he asks.

Ooooooooo

**May 1, 1973**

"I saw the construction at the square," says Cliff Tannen, sitting in the kitchen of his father's Hill Valley home. "That hotel of yours is coming up." Cliff had seen the steel framework rising from the old courthouse as he was rising in the car with his mother, who had brought him here.

"Is that what you want to talk about?" Biff asks his eight-year-old son. "The hotel?"

Cliff is visiting his father, although this is not a scheduled month. His mother, Meg, had moved him to Chico, California, where relatives of hers live.

"Why are you doing this?"

"I want to be happy, Cliff," says Biff.

Oooooooooo

**May 2, 1973**

The next day, Cliff Tannen stands inside the church, dressed in a black tuxedo. His mother stands beside him. The boy wonders what his mother is feeling. Cliff is aware of the special bond of marriage, and knows enough that breaking such a bond can cause pain.

He looks up towards the altar.

"Do you, Lorraine Baines McFly, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?" asks the priest.

"I do," she replies.

"And do you, Biff Tannen, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do," replies Biff.

They are pronounced husband and wife, and Biff kisses his bride. They all walk out to the vestibule in front of the church.

"Third time's the charm," he says, kissing Lorraine.

The reception is held at a banquet hall. The banquet hall's staff has prepared an excellent meal for the wedding guests. Inside the banquet hall, guests in fine clothes greet each other. The hall is covered in a blue carpet. White tablecloths cover the circular tables. A live band sits at the corner, playing their live music as people dance on the wooden dance floor.

"So you actually flew in 'Nam?" asks Mike Tannen, the fifty-eight year old father of the groom.

"Yeah," replies Milton Baines, Lorraine's thirty-one-year-old brother. "Pretty amazing, being up in the sky. Everything looks peaceful down there 'till you drop some ordnance."

"I was in the Army during World War II," says Mike. What he neglects to mention is that he spent most of the war inside a cell in Leavenworth.

David McFly sits at the head table. The almost-ten-year-old has been through a lot. Within the past two months, everything has changed. He looks at his new stepbrother Cliff, who is only a year younger than him.

He then looks to his right. Linda still misses Dad. Marty seems to be happy, because the concept of death had not sunk into the four-year-old's mind yet. Marty was excited about having a new daddy.

Fro most of the people here, it is a joyous event. That evening, Biff and Lorraine spend their first night together as husband and wife.

Ooooooooo

**May 3, 1973**

Doctor Emmett Brown looks at the parts assembled on the workbench in his cluttered garage lab. He had been working very late. He had heard the news of the wedding.

_I have to finish the flux capacitor; I must know what went wrong. _

Ooooooooo

**August, 1973**

"You ready to go, David?" says Lorraine Baines McFly Tannen, standing at a door inside the hallway of the home she had lived in for three months.

"Do I really have to go, Mom?" asks David McFly, looking at the suitcase sitting on top of his bed.

"It's for your own good, David. Your father wants you to have the best education available. It'll be fun. You can make more friends."

"But I have to leave my friends _here._"

"You're not going away forever, David. You'll be back for Thanksgiving."

Dave takes the last suitcase and sets it inside the back of the yellow Ford Crown Victoria taxicab parked outside the Tannen home. He then steps into the back of the taxi. His mother sits next to him. She intends to accompany her son on the train ride and taxi ride to the boarding school that he was enrolled in.

The taxicab pulls away, taking Dave to his new life.

ooooooooo

"We already discussed this, Lorraine," says Biff, sitting inside the master bedroom of his Hill Valley home. "We looked through the catalog together, and even visited the school together. It's a great school."

"Dave is only ten, Biff," protests Lorraine, who had just returned from the boarding school that Dave would be spending the fall. "And now you're sending Linda off to _another_ boarding school?"

"_We're _giving them the best education. There is only _we_ in marriage."

"But they're not old enough! They were going to a perfectly good school last year. You just want them out of the house. Is that why you sent them there?"

Biff answers her with a slap to the face. "You can see them on Thanksgiving break."

Lorraine sits down on the bed. The last time, the hitting did not start for years. _This_ time, it was only three months.

But she has to stay with him. Who is going to support her and her children?


	11. Commitments

**April, 1975**

The construction of the Pleasure Paradise is the biggest noise in Hill Valley, even more so than the action at the Lone Pine Casino at the Lone Pine Mall.

Biff Tannen walks in the huge interior of the building, wearing a hard-hat and goggles and jeans instead of an expensive custom-tailored suit that he usually wears to the office. Accompanying him is BiffCo's vice president of operations, Stan Cartman. Cartman wears a similar outfit; a heavy moustache sprouts from his lips like trees sprouting from the slopes of the Sierra Nevada Mountains.

"Mr. Tannen, Mr. Cartman," says the supervisor. "Welcome. Excuse us if it is a little dusty in here."

That is an understatement. A layer of dust covers the tarp that covers the floor. The sound of hammers striking nails and saws cutting wood echo through the huge room where the casino will be.

"So where is everything going to be?" asks Cartman.

"Sir, that place over there is going to be the buffet," replies the supervisor, pointing towards a raised platform where workers are currently installing drywall. "And over there will be a full-service bar."

"When do you think it will be finished?" asks Biff.

"We're actually ahead of schedule. We could be done by May next year."

The two visitors' eyes widen. "Last I heard, construction will finish in December of '77," says Cartman. "You're not bullshitting us, right?"

"Of course not. We're already working on the top floor of the tower."

"Wow," says Stan. "Clarence is gonna be happy to hear this."

Oooooooo

Later that day, Biff and his wife, Lorraine, deal with another matter. They sit in the living room of the Tannen home near Clayton Ravine. Lorraine's son Dave is home. In addition to his shirt and bell-bottom jeans, the eleven-year-old boy has a swollen lip and a slight bruise.

"How could you do this again?" Biff berates his stepson. "I gave a sixty thousand dollar donation the last time this happened, and you blew it! I wasted sixty thousand dollars because of you!"

"What's the big deal?" asks Dave. "It's not like you're running out of money."

Biff slaps Dave in the face. "Don't talk back to your father like that!"

"You're not Dad! You're even worse than he was!"

"This isn't helping," says Lorraine. "You got into a fight again. We are only trying to help, getting you the best education so you can make something of yourself."

"Why did you marry him?" asks Dave. "How could you marry him?"

Biff shoves Dave into a recliner. "You go to your room. We'll figure out what to do with you."

After Dave walks up to his room, Biff turns to his wife of two years. "Your son is an idiot, Lorraine. Why do we even waste money on him? Maybe if you'd raised him better…"

"Maybe if we didn't send him away all the time, he would have turned out better," says Lorraine.

Biff slaps her. "Don't talk like that to your husband. I'm gonna send Dave somewhere far away, where no one will tolerate that kind of bullshit. And maybe I'll send Linda and Marty there too."

Oooooooo

**October, 1975**

Lorraine Baines McFly Tannen sits down on the cushioned seat. The walls of the room are painted white, the floor tiles are white; the whole room has this aura of sterility. She had come to this place in Reno, Nevada at Biff's insistence.

A lady in a white blouse and white skirt enters the room. "Mrs. Tannen," she says. "How are you feeling?"

"A little nervous," replies Lorraine.

"It won't hurt a bit."

Lorraine lies down in this room minutes later. People in blue robes and masks surround her. A gas mask is placed on her face, and she catches the sweet scent of ether before her mind takes a vacation from the physical Universe.

Oooooooo

**May 14, 1976**

Lenny Powell forces himself to stay awake, even though he had a cup of coffee at a nearby coffeeshop just an hour ago. A whole crowd of well-dressed people had gathered at the Courthouse Square.

At midnight, Biff Tannen officially opened Biff's Pleasure Paradise. A large tower stands above the site of the former courthouse, and the word "Biff's" is on the top. Biff's picture hangs right above the main entrance to the hotel/casino.

"Tonight we open a beautiful hotel and casino which will be the crown jewel of this town," Biff had said before the opening. "This hotel and casino is jointly owned by BiffCo and the city of Hill Valley. The people of this town will get a share of the casino's profits. I want to thank the city of Hill Valley for approving this venture, and I want to thank the workers who spent over three years making this possible. It is almost midnight."

And so Biff cut a ribbon at midnight, opening the casino.

Lenny is impressed the moment he steps inside Biff Tannen's Pleasure Paradise. He inside is beautiful, like a high-class lounge to the Lone Pine Casino's dive bar. The wallpaper had beautiful patterns, and the handrails next to the ramps and stairs are made of shiny brass. There are a few differences from what the reporter had seen when the project was first unveiled- the water fountain that was part of the original plan was replaced by a parking lot.

He walks up to a table where Biff is. The game played at the table is a wheel that is spun. Three men in suits are at the table with Biff; from their interactions, they appear to be close friends.

"Mr. Tannen," says Lenny.

"Powell," replies Biff, recognizing the Hill Valley Telegraph reporter. "How is your family?"

"Fine," replies Lenny, thinking of his wife Cassie and his children Kate and Andy. "I'd like to ask a few questions."

Biff speaks with his friends. "How about you ask questions as we try our luck?"

"Sure," replies Lenny.

Oooooooo

**May 15, 1976**

"So this is where we gonna live?" asks Linda McFly.

"Yes, dear," replies Lorraine. "This is home now. The twenty-seventh floor."

They are with Biff, Dave, and Marty inside a penthouse in the Pleasure Paradise. The penthouse is much more luxurious than the casino floor. The carpet is soft, soft enough to walk comfortably while barefoot. The kitchen has white tiles, and the countertops are covered in tiles as well.

"It's better than our old place," says Dave. "Remember that, Mom."

"Better enjoy it," says Biff. "You and Linda are going back tomorrow."

Marty McFly sits on the bed in his new bedroom. The seven-year-old boy looks out the window, which grants a big view of Hill Valley and beyond. The room is covered in carpet, and there are finely carved dressers and drawers. A cardboard box sits on the carpet, containing his toys. He thinks silently. His life has changed over the past three years.

Oooooooooo

**July, 1978**

Kate Powell steps out of the Ford Crown Victoria. The fifteen-year-old girl makes her way along the driveway towards the front door of her home in Lyon Estates. She fumbles for her keys, having a little difficulty in grasping them. She pushes the key towards the keyhole when the door opens suddenly.

Her father Lenny is at the door, a tall red-haired man who is almost forty.

"Kathleen Anne Powell!" he yells. "Where were you?"

"I was stud-ing with friends," she says.

Lenny pulls his daughter in. "What were you studying, drunkenness? You smell like the bar in the Pleasure Paradise!"

"So what, Dad?" she asks. "It's legal; I'm _fifteen_."

"Not while you live in this house. And you can look forward to spending the rest of the summer in your room!"

"It's not fair!"

"What isn't fair is you going out at night and getting drunk!" yells Kate's mother Cassie, who finally joins in. "You're fifteen. You're a baby. And look what you're wearing. That short skirt, and that revealing top!"

After Kate is escorted inside her bedroom, Lenny faces his wife. "What is this world coming to, Cassie?" he asks. "It's like everything went into the shitter."

"We'll get through this, Lenny," answers Cassie.

Oooooooooo

**October, 1982**

"So how do you like the handling?" asks the man in the suit.

"Fine," replies Dr. Emmett Brown, setting the parking brake. "I'll take it."

"This is the easiest sale I had, yessir," replies the salesman.

The two of them step out of the silver DeLorean. Brown had driven to Reno, Nevada to purchase a DeLorean at an auto dealership on Virginia Street. From his calculations, the stainless steel construction would smooth out the temporal displacement.

The two of them enter the offices of the dealership. The Reno casinos are still easily seen from the dealership. Because Reno is a major stopover for travelers traveling by train or car between the western and eastern coasts of the United States, the casinos did not die from the legalization of gambling in California like the casinos in Las Vegas did. Plus Reno is close to several major ski resorts, and the hotels are cheaper than those around Lake Tahoe.

"So you want to drive the car home?" asks the salesman.

"I'm driving the Thunderbird home. I'd like the car to be delivered to my home in Hill Valley."

"Uh, where's that?"

"About seventy-six miles west of here," says Doc. "Go seventy miles west on the I-80, and there should be an exit for Hill Valley. The town is six miles from the exit."

"There is a delivery charge," says the salesman. "It'll cost you."

Oooooooooo

Later that month, Emmett Brown stores the DeLorean in a garage in Grass Valley that he had rented. He intends to work on the DeLorean until he finishes a working time machine. After finishing the time machine and testing it, he can do a little time traveling to find out what went wrong in the past.

_Something happened back in 1955 that caused history to turn out like this. What did Marty do?_

He does not leave for Hill Valley just yet. He has an appointment here in Grass Valley.

He sits in a diner at the corner of Main and Richardson Streets. He takes a look at the scenery. Grass Valley had retained much of its small town charm, unlike Hill Valley twelve miles east. He eats a lunch of fried sole, with Pepsi to wash it down.

A red-haired man in his mid-forties enters the diner. "You must be Dr. Brown," he says.

"Mr. Powell," says Brown. "Have a seat."

"Uh, how are you doing?" asks Lenny.

"I'm working on an important project and I need your help," replies Emmett. "I'd like information on the murder of George McFly."

"It was a holdup," replies Lenny. "His wallet was missing."

"I think Biff had something to do with it."

"Why would you think that?"

"None of this was supposed to happen. George McFly was not supposed to be dead. And Biff, how did he win all those bets?"

"I don't know," says Lenny. He remembers all the stories he did, covering Biff's great fortune. "I do have sources with information on the McFly murder. They suspect McFly's murder was related to the death of Carmine Ciccone."

"Who?"

"Carmine Ciccone was suspected to be an active member of the Ciccone crime family- they're a crime family with headquarters in Chicago. He died in a plane crash eleven years ago. The FAA could not find out what caused the crash. Anyway, BiffCo did business with Carmine's company."

"And George McFly might have had contacts with Carmine or the other Ciccones."

"He might have known something, and the Ciccones put a hit on him. I know Biff is worried; other sources told me that he increased his personal security after the McFly murder. I covered Biff's wedding with Lorraine, George McFly's widow. They had guards doing pat down searches on all the guests."

"Mr. Powell, how is your family?"

Lenny gets a pained look on his face. "I haven't spoken to my daughter Kate ever since she left home when she was sixteen- that was three years ago. She works at Biff's Pleasure Paradise, doing God-knows-what."

"I would appreciate it if I had copies of the articles on the George McFly murder and the Ciccone crime family," says Doc. "And any articles about Biff winning sports events."

"Sure," says Lenny.

Ooooooooo

Inside his home in Hill Valley, Dr. Brown studies the newspapers that Lenny Powell had given him. The newspapers are copies of the Hill Valley Telegraph as well as a few issues of the Chicago Tribune that has articles on the Ciccone crime family.

_What is the connection?_

Doc looks at the newspaper from 1958 reporting on Biff's first win at the Santa Anita racetrack. He is fairly certain this is the first major skew from the original future timeline.

He looks at the picture of Biff, who was twenty-one at the time. He is smiling at his first win. Doc scans through the picture with a magnifying glass.

He looks at the magnified image of the back pocket. A book is inside the pocket. The title reads "Almanac"

_Of course!_

Ooooooooo

**November 12, 1982**

_Today is the twenty-seventh anniversary of Marty's departure._

While Marty is due to return on October 26, 1985, at the same time, Marty is in a boarding school, from what Emmett Brown had heard.

_What if Marty does not make the trip back to 1955? What will happen to the Marty that I sent back to the future? Will he simply be erased from existence, after all the trouble we went through of getting his parents together? _

Doc brings his attention back to the present. In front of him is a dimly lit room with polished black tiles. The oak doors are the main entrance to the penthouse where Biff and Lorraine Tannen live.

They are not home; Brown had heard that Biff and Lorraine went on a trip to the Mexican Riviera and will not be back for another three days. He pats his outfit; he looks like a maintenance man, which is what casino security would see.

None of the security guards would be wondering what a maintenance man would be doing up here. The _real _maintenance man is taking an unscheduled nap.

_Crude methods, but necessary. _

Entering the living room of the penthouse, Doc notices the huge size. It is at least twice as big as his garage home. The scientist enters the master bedroom.

_If Biff has a book that Marty had left behind from the future, he would keep it in a hiding place. _Searching through the bedroom, finding expensive clothes and jewelry and even a few books, Emmett finds nothing that would have given Biff knowledge about future sports scores.

He searches through the rooms, including Biff's study as well as bedrooms that are presumably for Lorraine's three children. The scientist looks through reference books to find out if any of them are copyrighted in the future.

After about forty minutes of searching, he finds something.

_I have a lead. I'd better be getting out of here before security becomes suspicious._

Doc leaves the penthouse suite, acting as if he had been authorized to be there. He rides the elevator to the ground floor. The elevator does not stop at the casino, but in a back hall. Presumably, it was designed this way so Biff would not have to walk through the casino floor to get to his Hill Valley home.

About twenty minutes later, Emmett Brown is inside his garage home, which is still located next to the BiffCo headquarters.

He reads the book he retrieved from Biff's penthouse; it is a 1979 World Almanac. Such a book would have given Biff knowledge- enough knowledge to bet on the winner and never lose.

_Something's wrong. Wait, the book…_

The pages have not yellowed, as a book would if it was over twenty years old. The book still looks new.

While there have been many technological advances between 1955 and 1982, paper that does not yellow is not one of them.

Oooooooo

**November 13, 1982**

Hearing a crash, Dr. Emmett Brown suddenly wakes up. He sees men wearing tactical vests and helmets.

"What the..?" he asks.

A baton strikes the back of his legs, causing him to fall. He looks up and sees the men are Hill Valley police officers.

"Emmett Brown, you are under arrest for burglary," says one of the officers, a sergeant.

The police officers lead Brown outside to the cold autumn air towards a Ford Crown Victoria waiting in the parking lot for the adjacent Burger King. Emmett's forehead smacks the roof of the car as he is pushed inside.

Oooooooo

"I know nothing," says Emmett Brown.

"Dr. Brown, you should tell us the truth," says Gary Shepard, who is a criminal defense attorney based in Grass Valley. "Biff Tannen reported that a safe was stolen."

"I'm not saying anything."

"Very well," replies Shepard. "We'll try to get you bail."

A police officer takes Emmett, now clad in an orange jumpsuit, and escorts him to the holding cell. This is a temporary cell until he is transferred to the county jail.

_I can't tell him the truth- that in 1955 I met a teenager who traveled back in time with a time machine I will invent. _

_Oooooooo_

Emmett Brown stands in the Hill Valley courthouse. The courthouse is a new structure, built in 1968, along with a brand new civic center. It is located about half a mile from Biff's Pleasure Paradise.

He looks around the courtroom. The local media is already packing the courtroom, including Lenny Powell, the Hill Valley Telegraph reporter that he had spoken to last month. The bailiff announces the docket number. Emmett Brown is charged with assault, battery, burglary, and grand larceny.

"How do you plead?" asks the judge.

"Not guilty," says Brown.

"People ask for remand," says a man in a blue suit, who is the executive assistant district attorney.

"Defendant is remanded," says the judge.

A sheriff's deputy escorts Emmett away.

Ooooooooo

**December 25, 1982**

"Merry Christmas, nutcase."

Dr. Brown looks up and sees one of the county jail guards, holding a tray.

"I got breakfast for you."

The guard, a huge man towering over the scientist, pushes the tray towards the slot in the cell. He then pulls the tray back and sets it on the concrete floor.

"I got a little extra for you, Brown. Think of it as a present."

The guard unzips his pants, and a bright yellow stream hits the food on the tray. Emmett instinctively places his hands on the bars, and the guard smacks his knuckles with the baton.

Emmett pulls his hands back, looking at the bruises on his knuckles.

Ooooooooo

**January, 1983**

The jail guards escort Emmett Brown through the dimly-lit corridors and into one of the visiting rooms. They slam him right into the seat of a plastic chair.

A bespectacled man in a white coat enters.

"Who are you?" asks Emmett.

"Dr. Quinn Redfield," says the visitor. "I just want to ask you a few questions, Dr. Brown."

"Okay."

"About the burglary."

"I know nothing of it."

"Okay, how do you feel about Biff Tannen?" asks Redfield.

"I was very suspicious of his good fortune," replies Brown. "To win over and over again in sports betting?"

"So you are jealous?"

"No," replies the scientist. "It just does not feel right."

Ooooooooo

**March, 1983**

After eating his lunch in his cell, Emmett Brown hears footsteps. He turns and sees sheriff's deputies, men in white coats, and his lawyer Gary Shepard.

"What is it?" asks Brown.

"There was a sanity hearing," says Shepard. "You're being committed to the Pescadero State Hospital."

"What? How could there have been a sanity hearing? I was not even there!"

The cell door opens, and one of the deputies grabs the scientist's arm.

"There has to be some mistake," says Brown.

The deputies then start whacking him with the batons over and over again. Each blow sends shocks throughout his sixty-three-year-old body.

Then one of the men in white outfits places a straitjacket over Emmett Brown, leading him away.

Oooooooo

Lenny Powell looks up at the proof for the new issue of the Hill Valley Telegraph that is to be printed today.

_Emmett Brown Committed- Crackpot Inventor Declared Legally Insane_


	12. Slash

Overlooking the cliffs next to the Pacific Ocean, just an hour's drive from San Francisco

**1984**

Overlooking the Pacific Ocean south of Pescadero State Beach, just an hour's drive from San Francisco, Pescadero State Hospital for the Criminally Insane holds patients judged mentally ill by California's courts. The complex consists of an administration building, dormitories for the patients, and buildings where medical treatment is done.

One of the doors inside the dormitories open, and Dr. Emmett Brown looks up and sees the orderlies.

"It's that time again, Brown," says one of the orderlies, a huge man built like a linebacker for the Los Angeles Raiders.

The three orderlies escort the scientist out of the dormitory, past neatly manicured lawns. From the lawns, they walk through hallways with white halls and white-tiled floors. They enter a room with all sorts of medical equipment.

Emmett is tied to a bench. A nurse rubs ointment onto his temples, and then places a metal device on his head, with contacts with the temples.

"Do it," says the doctor in charge, who is clad in a white lab coat.

A technician turns a knob, and presses a button. A sharp electric current is conducted right through Emmett Brown.

The terrible electric shock is a familiar feeling for him.

Oooooooooo

The black Lincoln limousine pulls to the curb, and Clifford Tannen steps out.

_What a dump, _he thinks. _I remember this was supposed to look beautiful when it was first designed._

He looks at Biff's Pleasure Paradise, the centerpiece of Hill Valley. In front is a parking lot. The twenty-year-old recalls that a water fountain had been planned for the spot. The buildings surrounding the hotel look rapidly aged, with paint peeling. Some industrial site is under construction just a few blocks away.

Cliff enters the casino, which is brilliant and lively compared to the town square just outside. He looks around at the gambling patrons from as far away as China sitting at the slot machines or playing at the many tables, as cocktail servers with low-cut blouses and short skirts serve beer and wine and hard liquor.

"Hey there," someone calls out to him.

Cliff turns his head to look towards the direction of one of the many bars servicing the clientele of the Pleasure Paradise. He sees a man in a stained blue shirt, with curly dark hair and fuzz on his face.

"Dave?" he asks, looking at his stepbrother. "What happened to you?"

"Judge gave me probation and I don't have to go to jail," replies Dave, his speech slurred from having some hard liquor. "Could you loan me fifty dollars? I feel lucky."

Cliff walks away. Dave likely does not remember who he is.

He walks to a door where he has been through many times since the Pleasure Paradise was built. A guard looks at him.

"You're the boss's kid, right?" asks the security guard. "Come on in."

Cliff walks through the hallway and stops at an unmarked elevator that goes directly to the penthouse apartment on the twenty-seventh floor. The doors open, and he steps in. A few minutes later, he emerges onto the twenty-seventh floor lobby. His heart races and he feels as if he can float, looking forward to the meeting. He walks to the double doors and knocks.

"Ah, hello," says a man in a black suit.

"Cliff!" shouts Lorraine Tannen, running to meet her stepson.

He kisses her on the cheek. "Great to see you, Lorraine. Where's Dad?"

"Right here," replies Biff, looking at his son. "How are thing going with school?"

"Fine, Dad. I had an exam just last weekend. I'm just glad that is over with"

"And your mother?" asks Lorraine. "Is she doing well?"

"Mom and I get along together great," says Cliff. "Maybe we should go downstairs and get us some drinks and hit the high limit tables."

"Now that's the kind of thinking I want from my boy," says Biff.

Oooooooo

"How did you like it so far?" asks the man with a blond goatee.

"We have the outline," replies Biff Tannen as he looks at the Magnavox television screen.

Biff had taken a trip to Burbank. He is building the Biff Tannen museum, a museum dedicated to him and his rise. Already, his people had purchased old newspapers showing his rise to power.

We can leave that shit about Carmine Ciccone out.

"What really interests me is your family history," says the producer. "Your dad was in World War II. And your great-grandfather, an Old West gunslinger. I was thinking of what image to use in the video.

Biff looks at the old photographs of his great-grandfather, Buford Tannen, who was known as Mad Dog. He sees a picture of Buford taken in 1884; Buford has a classic curled moustache popular at the time. He then looks at another picture.

"I like this one," says Biff, looking at an older picture of Buford, who at the time had a long beard. "Looks more rough."

ooooooo

Stepping out of his Cadillac after parking it in the Pleasure Paradise's underground parking garage, Lenny Powell walks towards the elevator and goes up to the casino. The sight before him is familiar, with gamblers pulling the levers on the slot machines and betting at the tables. A 1984 Pontiac GTO is on display, and six people spin the reels hoping for a new car. The reporter now lives in Grass Valley. Everything in Hill Valley had turned to shit ever since the Pleasure Paradise was built, as if this building was rotten and the rot spread. The high school he went to thirty years ago had burned down in '79. Fortunately, Grass Valley is still a nice place to live. The only gambling there are slot machines in gas stations and liquor stores.

At least Andy has a chance.

Walking along the casino floor, he reaches the Rancher's Steakhouse, the finest steakhouse in Hill Valley. The food is expensive- a 20 oz. New York steak is offered for fifteen dollars.

A woman wearing an outfit showing her cleavage works as the hostess. "Sir, do you want a table."

"I'm meeting someone here," says Lenny. "Name's Powell, and I'm with Biff Tannen."

"Okay, Mr. Powell," says the hostess. "Come with me please."

Lenny is led to a private booth in the corner. The booth is paneled in wood, and has pictures of landscapes such as the Pacific coast and the Sierra Nevada.

"Ah, Mr. Powell," says Biff Tannen, reaching for an onion ring. "So great to see you. And you remember the chief financial officer, Clarence Leeds?"

"Yes, I do, Mr. Tannen."

"How did you like the museum?" asks Clarence.

"It was great. I wanted to ask you about the George McFly murder."

"That was eleven years ago," says Biff. "The trail got cold."

"I've been looking over the evidence, and I think someone from BiffCo did it."

"Why would you think that?" asks Clarence, dipping an onion ring into ranch dressing. "It was just a holdup that went bad."

A waitress steps in and serves some prime steaks for Biff and Clarence.

"I've been going through some of your books, and your company's dealings with Carmine Ciccone."

"Why do you think someone from my company killed George McFly?" asks Biff. "I think the Ciccones were behind it."

"Except for Carmine, the Ciccones knew next to nothing about Hill Valley, and Carmine died in a plane crash two years before George was killed. Who knew that George was going to be at the awards ceremony that night? I was invited to cover the event, and I was left in the dark as to who would get the awards. Someone from the company didn't want George to talk. Someone who had a lot to lose if George were to turn in evidence."

"Whom do you think it is?" asks Biff.

"I don't know, Mr. Tannen. Maybe one of your executives."

Oooooooooo

The fire from the fireplace crackles, radiating heat as well as turning marshmallows toast brown.

"Nothing like a night at a cabin near Lake Tahoe, eh Kyle?" says a man roasting marshmallows.

"Better than a night out in the town," replies Kyle Foley, his waist wrapped by the arms of his lover.

"I heard that the George McFly and Carmine Ciccone murders were solved," says Arnold Reese. "You wouldn't believe who did it. We always thought it was one of the Ciccones that did in McFly; we were wrong. Too bad the punk wasn't sentenced to death."

"Arnold, Arnold, Arnold," says Kyle. "Do we have to talk about _work_? We're here in Tahoe, roasting marshmallows. I can think of other things to do besides roast marshmallows."

A few minutes later, fudge is packed.

Ooooooooo

The orderly looks inside the padded room. Dr. Emmett Brown is inside, with his eyes empty. Brown had just received another dose.

_Crazy guy. Not as crazy as that lady who blew up that computer factory, saying that machines will take over. But he's a lot easier to handle when he's drugged up._

He walks to the next room, currently holding Pescadero's newest patient. The man was tried for murdering George McFly and Carmine Ciccone, but instead of state prison, he was judged legally insane and committed to Pescadero .

"It was Biff!" yells Clarence Leeds, wrapped in a straitjacket. "Biff Tannen! He was behind it all!"

_Paranoid delusions_, recalls the orderly.

The doctors have a treatment for Clarence Leeds.

Oooooooo

**July, 1987**

"Murphy."

The credits roll, and many of the people inside Theater 2 of the Lone Pine Mall Cinema step out. Kate Powell walks to the lobby with her newest boyfriend. They had just seen the movie RoboCop, which starred Peter Weller and Stephanie Zimbalist.

"That was the shit, Brian," says Kate.

They head out into the warm night air; the sun had set just forty minutes ago. "Yeah, I like the part where they shot up that cop that became Robocop. Anyway, I was wondering when I can meet your folks."

"They suck," replies Kate. "They wouldn't let me be me, so I left."

"That was years ago, Kate. Maybe you should call them or something."

"Maybe we should hit the casinos," replies the twenty-four-year-old woman.

The two of them enter the Lone Pine Casino, the most popular spot in the Lone Pine Mall. While not as crowded as the casino in Biff's Pleasure Paradise, it still has plenty of patrons, enough to turn a profit. After playing a few table games and pulling some slots and getting some free drinks, Brian and Kate head towards the 49er Bar and sit at the bar, video poker machines in front of them.

"You loser," Kate hears a female voice say. She glances to her left and sees a young man with dark curly hair, his face wet.

"Awe come on," replies the man. "Gimme a chance."

Kate feels the man's hand touch her left thigh. Instinctively, she moves her thigh closer to her other thigh, thinking that it is over.

"Did you just touch my woman?" asks Brian.

"No," replies the man.

"I saw you feel her leg!"

"That was an accident!"

Brian punches him in the mouth, knocking the man half a foot back. "So is this!"

"Brian, stop!" yells Kate, putting her arm on his bicep.

The other man pushes Brian. Kate instinctively gets between Brian and the man that he is fighting with.

Brian does not see her in time.

Nor did Kate see that knife in time.

Kate looks down, seeing the knife sticking out from just below the ribs. She falls, looking up at the ceiling. The man Brian was fighting with stands over her in shock.

"You bastard!" yells Brian. "You did this to her!"

Kate can feel herself slipping away. She then coughs up blood, and she breathes her last.

The Hill Valley police arrive at the scene not long after Kate Powell died.

Nineteen-year-old Marty McFly watches from a distance, seeing the police arrest his brother Dave.

Ooooooooo

Lenny and Cassie Powell will never forget that night.

After the Hill Valley police visit them, sadness floods them, and much of it come out of their eyes.

Oooooooo

**September, 1987**

"She said no to him," says Brian, sitting inside the witness seat in the Hill Valley courthouse. "He told her that if he couldn't have her, no one will. So he stabbed her and slashed her and he kept doing it over and over again. Oh my God." Brian breaks down in tears. A few of the jurors also cry at the story.

"You lying bastard!" yells Dave McFly, getting up from his chair, energized by the lies he just heard. "You stabbed her while you were trying to stab me!" Several sheriff's deputies immediately and brutally beat him down.

"Mr. McFly, you are going back to jail!" yells the judge. "You'll come back when the jury gives its verdict."

Two hours later, Brian meets with a man who is sometimes known as Skinhead. He receives a wad of huge bills as compensation.

Oooooooo

**February 2, 1988**

Eating a breakfast of Fruit Loops and scrambled eggs and Minute Maid orange juice, Biff reads the Hill Valley Telegraph inside his penthouse.

_David McFly Executed- Alcoholic Loser Put to Death For Murder of Hill Valley Woman_

The article was written by Lenny Powell, who was the father of Kate Powell. According to the story, David McFly, described as an alcoholic loser with no permanent employment ever since being kicked out of high school, had made sexual advances at Kate. When she refused, he stabbed and slashed her thirty times.

_It pays to pay off the coroner and the other witnesses._

Dave was convicted and sentenced to death and was just executed in San Quentin's gas chamber.

_A butthead just like his father. _


	13. Party's Over

1996

**1996**

Lassen Peak rises over ten thousand feet above sea level, overlooking the southern Cascade Mountains as well as the Sacramento Valley. A carpet of trees surrounds the mountain.

In the woods down slope from the volcano's summit, a group of people wanders around, hunting for deer.

"I love these outings, Dad," says Cliff Tannen. "Such a beautiful place. Maybe I should take my kids here someday."

"I should visit the grandkids more often," replies Biff Tannen. His grandson Griff had been welcomed into the world just a few months ago. "Maybe for Christmas."

"I'd love to see them," replies Lorraine, who now has some gray hair underneath her canvas hat. She had accompanied her husband and stepson and several friends on this private hunting preserve.

Biff kneels down, his boot making an impression on the forest soil. He had only been hunting a few times. It is a relatively simple pleasure compared with trips to Europe or Mexico. He listens intently, hoping for a deer or even a grizzly bear. 

"You know, Dad, I was thinking," says Cliff.

"About what?" asks his father.

"We need some changes. It's time for the family business to come under new management."

"New management?"

Biff is answered with a blow from the but of the Remington M1100 shotgun that Cliff is hauling around. He looks at straight at the shotgun barrel. "Cliff, what is this, some kind of joke?" He looks at the others. "Skinhead, Match, 3-D, what is going on? Lorraine?"

"Nananananana," says his thirty-two-year-old son as he moves the shotgun around. The pitch of his voice rises. "Nanananananana."

Then there is a blast, as the shotgun pellets propel forward at an explosive speed. Biff looks at his right arm, and where his hand was is now a bloody stump. The pellets literally ripped his right hand apart. He can hear the others laugh.

He stands up, with the pain traveling along his arm and up his spine. Blood spurts from the torn artery.

"Give him a hand," says Cliff.

_This has got to be a dream,_ thinks Biff as he loses pints of blood. _Or a movie or something._

"Turn around," someone says.

He looks and sees his old friends since before high school, now all appearing in their late fifties, with graying hair and a few wrinkles along with the caps and jeans and boots.

And he sees the rifles pointing at him.

A few more blasts, and bullets rip through Biff's body. He screams out in pain, and it echoes through the valley. A flock of birds fly away frantically at the gunpowder bursts and the terrified, agonizing screams. Biff then kneels down, supporting himself with his left hand.

"He's still alive," Biff hears.

Lorraine walks up to him, with a shiny Desert Eagle pistol.

"Party's over, Biff," she says.

She pulls the trigger, ands the hammer strikes the primer, setting off the gunpowder and sending the bullet flying. The bullet rips through Biff's head and comes out the other side with a spray of bone and blood and brain.

"Good night, sweet prince."


	14. Epilogue

1997

**1997**

Dr. Emmett Brown stands inside an office inside the administration building of the Pescadero State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. He reads through a form identified by a combination of letters and numbers. A seal is on the upper right corner.

He signs his name on the line.

"Now go," says the man behind the desk.

He walks out of the building towards the visitors' parking lot for the mental hospital. The memories of the past fourteen years still haunt him. The abuse by the orderlies, the drugs, the electroshock treatments have taken their toll on his soul. He can never recover who he was.

Ooooooo

The church is packed with dozens of people dressed in their fine clothes, people of various ages from ten to eighty. Fifty-nine-year-old Lenny Powell sits in one of the back pews, writing down notes. He recalls how long he has covered stories on this family.

Memories of his dead daughter Kate briefly surface.

_It has been almost ten years. God, I miss her. If only we could have gotten along better. _

Those sad memories do not surface as often as they once did.

He still recalls hearing about how Biff Tannen was killed in a hunting accident last year near Lassen Peak.

_So they say. _

He looks at the bride, Lorraine Baines McFly Tannen. The priest asks her if she will pledge herself to the groom, and she answers that she does. Then the priest has the same conversation with the groom.

"I now pronounce you man and wife," says the priest.

Lenny stands up with the others and claps, congratulating the new married couple. He steps out, hoping to ask them a quick question.

"Third time's the charm," says Lorraine.

She then embraces her husband, and kisses Cliff Tannen.


End file.
